Harry Potter and the Test
by TS
Summary: A visitor arrives at Hogwarts' by accident, but finds his presence to be no accident. Throughout, the friendships of Hogwarts' will be tested, but will they persevere? COMPLETE
1. And now, a word from your author

Greeting  
  
Hello,  
  
Thank you for taking the time to read (or glance) at my story. It is, of course, a work in progress. I have had this plot running around in my mind for a while; finally, I'm getting it down in written form. If there are any errors, be they grammatical or character related, let me know. I did read all four books, but it has been a while so I might have forgotten some of the little details.  
  
Read and review, please. Say whatever you want. Tell me it sucks if you want. I'm open. But I will keep writing, like it or not.  
  
As usual, I don't own any of these characters, only the plot.  
  
Drop a line! Thanks!  
  
TS  
  
Time to thank!  
  
Aude- My first reviewer, who still is sticking by my story, still reading. Thank you tons!  
  
Kaze- Thanks for the great review!  
  
Coolone007- Hope you checked back.you got it right!  
  
Athena- I hope you like the unexpected turns, there's more to come!  
  
Phoenix SilverWind- Thank you for the review! Hope the ending won't disappoint!  
  
Soundtrack  
  
As with all of us, some music gets us into some moods while others create different ones. This is the music I would often listen to while typing. Since the music fits the varying moods of the story, I thought I'd include it as a soundtrack. Feel free to find the songs or not; this is merely a minor suggestion. Thanks!  
  
1. Jimmy Eat World - The Cautioners  
  
2. U2 - Who's Gonna Ride Your White Horses  
  
3. Olive - You're Not Alone  
  
4. Linkin Park - My December  
  
5. Five for Fighting - Easy Tonight  
  
6. Ben Folds - Not the Same  
  
7. Justincase - Don't Cry for Us  
  
8. Genesis - Tonight, Tonight, Tonight  
  
9. Stabbing Westward - Save Yourself  
  
10. The Police - Every Breath You Take  
  
11. Unwritten Law - Seeing Red  
  
12. Filter - Take a Picture  
  
13. Oasis - Let's All Make Believe  
  
Final Thoughts  
  
After a six month break, I finally sat down and finished the final chapter. I know: it is pathetic. I wrote the first nine in a matter of three weeks but couldn't write one final section in a half-year span, and my apologies (to anyone who cares). Call it getting caught up in college (!  
  
However, I now feel complete, and whole, now that my work has been finished. I hope you leave me your thoughts as dismal and disappointed as they may be (although words of praise are accepted as well).  
  
Thank you again.  
  
Your (occasionally) devoted author,  
  
TS 


	2. Chapter 0: London

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Opening  
  
  
  
  
  
I pulled the collar of my jacket up tighter around my neck. The cool air chilled my skin and the icy fog that surrounded me even made it worse.  
  
'What Gulf Stream?' I thought to myself. 'The brochure never mentioned that I would have to survive Arctic winds and ice in September.'  
  
I stepped further away form the curb as the taxi that took me here left me behind. With a soft puttering it escaped back into the manic traffic of old London, allowing me to explore Kings Cross Station on my own. Looking at my watch I saw that I had about half an hour before my train for Glasgow took off. This is one 'cab' that I wouldn't want to miss.  
  
  
  
I was participating in the Studies Abroad program run through my high school. For my junior year, I decided to take England over Italy. The past few days, chilly as they have been, have made me consider whether I made the right choice. That aside, I was enjoying my time overall and since I still had a few days before classes got underway, I had some time to myself. It was time to see the sights and sounds of London.  
  
Entering, I felt the chilly draft follow me in. Spotting the departure board, I stepped up to it, making sure my train was leaving on time, without any delays.  
  
"Glasgow.Glasgow.Glas--"  
  
Just then, I felt an elbow jab me in the shoulder. I was jostled by it and staggered forwards. My arm was already aching by the time I spun around to see who might have run into me so hard.  
  
"Excuse me," I shouted to the man who I guessed had lunged into me.  
  
He stopped and spun around to face me. On either side of him he was flanked by two other men. All three were tall, burly and obviously tipsy. The one on the right had a ragged beard and glared at me.  
  
"Wot did 'ou say?" he slurred, pointing his finger at me as he spoke.  
  
Fearing bodily harm, I lowered the tone of my voice.  
  
"You.you bumped into me."  
  
"Really? 'id we Cha'lie?" The middle man asked the other two. Obviously the ringleader, he snickered, looking between the two and then back at me.  
  
"I guess we did." His reply calmed my nerves; however, this settling lasted only monetarily.  
  
"Let us 'elp 'ou get dusted off then!" he replied and all three began coming at me. With only a few feet separating us as is, and seeing their rapid approach, I spun around and took off in the opposite direction.  
  
Not knowing the station well, I had no clue where I was to run to. No matter where I went, though, I had to dodge person after person, giving up on excusing myself after the tenth near collision. The trio was still after me, not bothering to use any grace in making their way through the crowds. I passed platform after platform on my right. The eighth one passed me and there, the people grew even thicker, I knew I had to change my direction and quick. Pausing to look over my shoulder, I took off down platform nine.  
  
  
  
Brick columns ran down its length, and I had to weave between them to keep clear of people and have a safe path of travel as well. I heard trains on both sides of me whistle, a handicap to my journey since it covered up the sound of footsteps, an advantage I had been relying on in my attempted escape. I looked over my shoulder again, and couldn't see them. This worried me; I continued to run further down the platform, but looked around at the same time, preparing myself for when they ran out at me, starting from some hidden spot, beyond my view.  
  
"WATCH OUT!"  
  
I heard someone shout. Whether it was in reference to me or not, I didn't know. All I could see was a massive blur, running at me, full speed. At that point, all I had was my instincts, and following their lead, I dodged out of the way, straight into one of the columns. Preparing for the hit, and subsequent beating I would receive from the thugs, I winced.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I opened the eyes.  
  
Before me, there were surges of people, running in front of me and just behind them, was a train. With steam pouring out of the stack, I noticed the shiny exterior, how the wheels gleamed and the wooden carriages shone.  
  
I laid there on the ground, on my side. Not wanting to take on the appearance of a drifter, I got myself up. Brushing the soot off of my black jacket, I looked around, trying to get a perspective of my current situation.  
  
'Damn,' was all I could think. I was obviously not in the place I was before. True, I wasn't being chased anymore, but I wasn't on platform nine any longer. Heck, even the ground was different. Gone was the cold concrete, now replaced by hardwood. Kids ran in front of me in what appeared to be black cloaks, looking much like the coat I was wearing. By the hand, they led who appeared to be their parents. Carts of trunks, topped with cages containing birds and even rats rolled by, chattering to everyone within their range.  
  
"This is not..hmmmm." I couldn't even finish my sentence. I began walking back towards where I assumed the platform had started. A few steps later, though, I felt contact once more. However, this time it wasn't rude.  
  
"Jacob, come on!" I heard him shout. Whoever it was had taken me by the elbow and began walking me back to where I started. I couldn't see his face since I was currently traveling backwards. Steeping as quickly as I could, I had little time to think up any questions to ask my leader.  
  
Seconds later, I was forced up some steps into one of the train's cars. Finally, he let go. I stood there, waiting to see my 'captor's' face. He turned, and a look of shock came to his face.  
  
"Oh my.I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else," he apologized. He shook my hand, trying to make up for his embarrassment. As this exchange went on, I heard a clock signal that it was noon. I began to step away and move towards the door. A final toll, though, seemed to have an effect on the doors. They slammed shut, abruptly stopping my exit.  
  
"Hmmmm..that's not good." I murmured to myself, ascending back up the steps. I felt the train shift and begin to move forward. I could do little else but stand there. 


	3. Chapter 1: Color

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
  
  
  
"Has this happened before?"  
  
"Not to my knowledge," she replied. We walked along the stony hall to some place unknown to me. Our footsteps echoed with such resonance it was almost shocking. Blazing torches lit our way, but they made no noise whatsoever. It was only our voices and footsteps to accompany us.  
  
I was in too much shock to try and straighten my mind out. So far, I had been chased by thugs, fallen into some new dimension, been forced onto a train and taken into someplace named Hogwarts'. Confusion was too much of an understatement to summarize the state of my mind, but I still managed to function properly.  
  
'Pretty soon I'll crack, I know it.'  
  
Nothing made sense at all. I had stopped asking questions after all the odd looks I got on the train ride here. The kids, dressed in the black uniforms, a crest stitched on, looked as if they were the normal ones; here I was, the odd one.  
  
The lady who was leading me went by the name McGonagall. She looked old, but from her personality you would think she was in her twenties. As soon as I got a hold of her at the bottom of the steps leading up to the front door of the massive school, she knew something wasn't right. Even before I had finished explaining to her what had happened, she grabbed my hand and took me inside, hustling past all the other students. Catching glances of them as we went by, they looked back, as bewildered as I was.  
  
"I don't understand what's going on," I said to her as we walked.  
  
"Me neither."  
  
She was dressed in black, like a witch, pointed hat and all. Not all the women were dressed similarly, but there was a definite feel of Halloween throughout the whole building. I knew this wasn't just any school; that was about the limit of my understanding.  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore will see you now," she said dryly. Out off the wall, a staircase appeared before me. Already beyond amazement, I simply looked at it and then back at her. She nodded, assuring me. I smiled weakly in return and began to climb the stairs.  
  
After reaching the apex of the twisted staircase, I found myself in a massive room, lined with cages and scrolls. Rich carpet adorned the floor I stood on and the whole atmosphere had a unique, but comforting aroma. My nerves began to settle and I managed to take a deep breath for the first time in hours.  
  
"Adam."  
  
I nearly jumped out of my skin at hearing my name. I looked in front of me and saw a massive desk, behind which sat who I guessed to be the headmaster. On the street, he would have been odd-looking, no doubt about that. Dressed in cloaks of crimson and wearing a wizard's hat, he sat and studied me. Glasses rested on his face, accompanied by a long, white beard.  
  
However, without knowing him, I could feel the warmth of his personality. It filled the whole room and wrapped around me. I felt secure and I relaxed once more. Seeing this, he smiled softly and motioned for me to have a seat. Choosing the chair on the left, I sat down in front of his desk.  
  
Nothing was said for a while. My eyes roamed back and forth between him and the curious odds and ends which adorned the walls of the room. Books that looked to be centuries old lined shelves behind him, and a bird, with brilliant rainbow-colored plumage sat just off to the left of him. Perching on a stand over a golden bowl, it stared at me, perhaps trying to figure out why I was here.  
  
"Adam," Dumbledore began, "you're probably wondering what is going on?"  
  
"Good guess," I said, choking on my words.  
  
I sat, waiting for a response. Seconds passed. Nothing. Finally, to make sure he was with me, I shrugged my shoulders.  
  
"Are you expecting an answer?" he asked, almost chuckling.  
  
"Kind of. I mean.I kind of know what happened, but it's..it's not like I can just turn back, right? I mean, it's not like I took a wrong turn and I can just make a U-turn and try it again. This.all this," I said, motioning with my hands, trying to refer to the grandiose-ness of the school, "it's.well..how should I put this.the scariest damn thing I've ever experienced."  
  
He laughed heartily at my explanation. I didn't blame him. I must have sounded like an idiot.  
  
"I understand how you must feel, but I do not understand what is going on, Adam."  
  
"Well, I mean this all happened by accident," I explained.  
  
"Did it?" He raised an eyebrow. With that, he leaned forward and stood up. Thoughtfully, he started to gaze around the room, pacing in the process. I decided to stay put.  
  
"I've always believed that things happen for a reason, Adam."  
  
"You mean that I was meant to be here? Sir, Dumbledore.you see, I was being chased and I just kind of fell in.through the pillar.and." And then I stopped. I had explained what happened already. No matter how much I explained, no matter how many times I told the story, I couldn't change the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.  
  
"Do you think I belong here? Is that what you're saying?"  
  
Dumbledore turned towards me, studying me once more.  
  
"What matters is do you think you belong here?"  
  
I looked at him, my expression unchanged. My brain tried to process all this new information. With the load it was taking, 'pondering' wasn't going to be something it could see as necessary.  
  
"Can I go back?"  
  
"Leave Hogwarts'?" he asked, inquisitively.  
  
"Okay, first of all, what is this 'Hogwarts''?"  
  
"Hogwarts' is a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is the most renowned in this area, but there are others out there. It has been in existence for centuries, educating the withes and wizards of tomorrow. There are seven years, or grades as you Americans call them," he said as an aside for my understanding.  
  
"How did you---"  
  
"The accent," he said, assuring me of his honesty. "After the seven years, you graduate and enter the professional world of wizardry."  
  
"In other words, it's a school of magic."  
  
"Put simply, yes," he conceded.  
  
"The school is divided into four houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin," he explained, saying the final name with an air of distaste. It was barely detectable, but it was there.  
  
"All the houses compete in sporting events, and, in doing so, attempt to attain the house cup, an award given to the house with the highest point total at the end of the year. You owe you allegiance to the school first, but your house is a close second."  
  
There was another pause, as I allowed this all to sink in.  
  
"But could I go back?" I repeated, not being able to judge what the response would be.  
  
"Do you want to?"  
  
I was beginning to become irritated with his way of reasoning. I just wanted answers; if anything, I didn't need more questions.  
  
"If I did, could I?" I tried again.  
  
"No," he said, resting again in his chair.  
  
In a way, I expected such an answer.  
  
"Like the whole 'If-I-tell-ya-I'll-have-to-kill-you' thing, huh?" I asked.  
  
"No, no, nothing like that," he laughed.  
  
"Then what?" Now, I was seriously curious.  
  
"Adam, in you, I see something." He scooted up closer to his desk, and therefore, closer to me.  
  
"So, I do belong?"  
  
"You need to find out the 'when' and 'why' yourself, but I can tell you that there is some feeling, some sentiment deep inside of you. It may be hiding there in the back of your mind, and you might not even know it."  
  
I considered that feeling in my stomach. What was it? Was it something about the place? Dumbledore? The students?  
  
"Do you know what I'm talking about?" he inquired, looking intently at me through his spectacles.  
  
"But I don't know any magic! I.cannot be a witch."  
  
"Wizard," Dumbledore corrected me.  
  
"Whatever! I mean, I've never blown anything up, or flown, or.anything." I'm not easy to convince and this matter would be no different.  
  
"This matters little, Adam. Most first year students who get their invitation to Hogwarts', that is if they are of muggle descent."  
  
'Muggle?' I thought.  
  
".meaning they are born to non-practicing parents." he explained.  
  
'Non-practicing?'  
  
".they have human parents." he tried again. "Um..where was I?"  
  
"First year students who have muggles for parents," I reminded him.  
  
"Ah, yes.well, they usually have no idea either, much like yourself."  
  
"I would be a wizard and not know it? Is this what you're saying?"  
  
He nodded in return.  
  
"This is unreal!" I stood up as this was all way too much to take sitting down. "Mister, Sir, Master... Dumbledore, this is all very nice of you, but I'm not a wizard. This is all an accident! I was being chased and I just ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"Things just don't happen, Adam. You are here for a reason. As I said, I don't know what that reason is. Honestly, I don't; I wish I did. There is something inside of you that proves and validates your presence here."  
  
When he finished, I knew he was right. Out of all this confusion and chaos, I knew one thing: I was meant to be here. I barely knew how say the word 'Hogwarts'' and yet, I knew that this is where I belonged.  
  
"Will you stay?" he asked.  
  
"I thought you said I couldn't leave if I wanted to?" I said, recoiling.  
  
"I am asking the question in an emotional sense. Does your heart want to stay?"  
  
I paused, thought for a moment, and then nodded.  
  
At my response, he grinned and stood up again. Moving over to a shelf to the left of me, he took a very odd looking hat off one of the shelves. It was black and was filled with stitches. The most intriguing characteristic of it was perhaps the fact that it appeared to possess a mouth. Before I could resist, the head wizard plunked it onto my crown.  
  
"Hmmm.this is very interesting." it said in a deep, philosophical voice.  
  
"Huh?!?" I said, half as a reply, half as a response to the realization that I had a talking hat on my head.  
  
"... this is very interesting. But I feel you should go to."  
  
I waited. Did it matter?  
  
".Gryffindor!!"  
  
I was somewhat relieved that I could get the thing off my head, but that feeling came back. Was this the right house? What's wrong with Slytherin?  
  
'Am I just hungry?'  
  
Just then, I heard heavy footsteps behind me. Turning to see who the owner of the noise was, my jaw dropped. Before my eyes, stood a massive creature; he looked human, but was way too large to be one. For the first time, I knew that giants did exist.  
  
"Adam, I would like you to meet Hagrid, our gamekeeper. He will help you get all the materials you need for the upcoming year."  
  
"Pleasure to meet ya, Adam," he said, offering a massive hand.  
  
"Little old to be a first year, isn't 'e? Hagrid asked.  
  
"He will come in as a sixth year," Dumbledore explained.  
  
"But Sir!" Hagrid exclaimed. "This is his first year and you're placing him in the sixth?!? Has the poor kid even used a wand yet?" I could see the reasoning in Hagrid's response and I turned to Dumbledore, waiting to hear his.  
  
"It will be a lot of work, but his age and intelligence is that of a sixth year student. Help will always be available to you, Adam. Are you comfortable with this?"  
  
Two sets of eyes were now resting on me. I turned the thought over in my mind. Used to large homework loads, I had a good feeling that I could play catch up and be okay. And the age factor..  
  
"Sure, I'll do it."  
  
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together in happiness. "Good luck, Adam. My door is always open."  
  
"You mean staircase?" I corrected him.  
  
"Er.I suppose so. I suppose so." With that he smiled and began to work on something that was on the desk in front of him.  
  
"Let's go, Adam. Much awaits us," Hagrid said. I stood and followed him away from the center of the room and down the staircase, back into the halls of the school. 


	4. Chapter 2: Bludgers

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
  
  
"How's it going?"  
  
I looked up from my book. I had been studying for nearly three hours and wasn't even halfway through my homework for that night. Accustomed to a descent workload, I had taken college classes in high school, starting in my sophomore year, but this was ridiculous. If this is what 'catching up' entailed, I was questioning whether I was up to the task.  
  
"Hi," I said, nervously.  
  
"I'm Ron Weasly." He offered a hand and I accepted it, giving his a firm shake. My hand was sweaty from holding the book for so long and I hope he didn't take it as a sign of how scared out of my wits I was.  
  
"Adam Barrowton."  
  
"You're the new student, aren't you?"  
  
"I see news spreads just as fast here as it does in my school," I admitted, closing the book and setting it on the table next to me. Seeing this, Ron took a seat in the chair opposite the table.  
  
"Isn't this your school?" he said, laughing.  
  
"I mean my real school. My high school."  
  
"Ahhhh, new to this whole wizardry thing, huh?"  
  
"Yes, very," I admitted.  
  
"How new?" he inquired, venturing further.  
  
"This is my first day."  
  
"FIRST DAY???" He bolted up from his slouching position.  
  
"Who's first day is it?" said another boy who had just walked up to us.  
  
"Um..Adam, this is."  
  
"Harry," I said, offering my hand.  
  
"You know him?" Ron asked. Harry looked at me with a puzzled look.  
  
"Have we met?" he asked me.  
  
"No, I don't know you, never met. You just.I guess you just look like a Harry."  
  
A moment of silence followed the introduction.  
  
"How did that happen? Why were you placed with in the sixth year?" Harry asked, starting up the conversation once more.  
  
I proceeded to walk them through what my last twenty-four hours had been like, how I had gone from getting out of a taxi in London to studying the bone structure of magical creatures. Explaining all this was actually very therapeutic to my nerves. It made me feel as if I still had some grip on reality.  
  
"Wow. That's amazing," Ron said, holding his forehead in awe.  
  
"They stuck you in the sixth year, though?" Harry asked, making sure he had heard correctly.  
  
"Yeah; I'm paying the price for it too." I gestured with my eyes towards my stack of books which needed to be read as soon as possible. It included six books on spells, two in anatomy, three on the history of wizardry, two on potions and one on how to play some sport called Quidditch. All of the material was very foreign to me, but I was retaining most of it.  
  
"If you ever need help, we'll back you up." Ron nodded, concurring with Harry's statement.  
  
"Thanks." I smiled to him. In the process of doing so, I noticed something appeared to be drawn on his forehead.  
  
"Um, Harry, I think there is something on your forehead," I said, slightly motioning to the area on the brow it occupied, using my own as an example.  
  
The two looked at each other and then at me, and then each other once more.  
  
"So, you've never heard of Harry Potter before?!?" Ron asked, nearly in a state of frenzy.  
  
"No. Should I have?" I asked, genuinely dumbfounded.  
  
"Ron, it's okay. I'm just a--"  
  
"Harry Potter is." Ron began. From there he went onto give what must have been the entire story of the young wizard's life, from conception to the present. The whole time, I was on the edge of my seat. For some reason, unknown even to myself, I related to the story. I didn't know any of the details or the names or the places described in the tale, but I felt as if I did, as if I had heard it before.  
  
"Wow. So, have you seen Vol--, sorry, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named yet this year?" I asked.  
  
"No, but the year has just started," Ron said, almost eager for the creature's appearance.  
  
"I hope he doesn't show up," Harry said, standing up. "I must be off; I have Quidditch practice."  
  
"A night practice?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah. Hey, Adam, you even seen it played before?"  
  
"No. I have a book on it; I haven't gotten into it yet."  
  
"Well, you should come watch. Nothing beats the real thing," Ron implored.  
  
"I guess I could use a break. God knows that," I said, muttering the last part to myself.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Neat game," I said. I was sitting in the bleachers, watching over the practice. The Gryffindor team had been working on their plays for an hour and I was still fascinated. In fact, with each play, I became more enthralled.  
  
"Harry is the seeker, then?" I asked making sure I had all the positions down.  
  
"Yeah, the best there is," Ron replied. He was pretty wrapped up in the practice as well, and was noting every move mentally.  
  
"I thought you said your brothers were the beaters."  
  
"No, that was last year. They've graduated. Fred hurt his arm last year and hasn't been the same since. Poor guy; whined about it all summer. George is still out there, though, helping the team get ready. They're still trying to find someone to take their places. Very few people want to be beaters. It's dangerous. Plus, the whole team is pretty much new. In fact, two of the new players, assigned to be the beaters, didn't show up today, as you can see. That's why George had to come by."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Harry and Alicia Spinnet are the only ones still there form last year. She's the captain and a chaser. Then, there are a bunch of newer players. They're good, but just not the same as last year."  
  
I paused for a second, thinking about what I was about to say.  
  
"I want to give it a try."  
  
"What?!?" he said. Now distracted, he looked at me hard. "You have never even flown a broom!"  
  
"No time like the present, right?" I got up and began to head down the bleacher steps, towards the field. Not wanting to be left behind, Ron got up and followed closely behind me. The team took a break just as I reached the grass.  
  
"Adam!" Harry shouted at me.  
  
As if I was programmed to, I reached at the table before me. Grabbing the most solid object I could, I brought my arm back and struck the thing that was coming at me. I hit it with a decent amount of power and I could feel it smash into the wooden club held within the palm of my hand. Overcoming its force, I pegged it squarely and drove it beyond where the team was congregated. I watched it hit the grass further down the field and roll to a stop.  
  
"Adam, that was.wow."  
  
"Adam? That's his name? Let me shake your hand." A tall, youthful girl gripped my hand and shook it feverishly.  
  
"And you are?" I asked, wanting to know the name of the person who was nearly tearing my arm off.  
  
"Alicia Spinnet, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team," she said proudly, holding up her head when she said it.  
  
"Nice to meet you."  
  
"That was an amazing hit. I have never met someone with such good reflexes."  
  
"Was that good?"  
  
"Amazing. You played before?"  
  
"Um."  
  
"He just started here," Ron broke in.  
  
"You've never even played before?"  
  
"Um.no," I admitted.  
  
"Well, then, get this man a broom. George, can he borrow y--"  
  
"Actually, Adam, why don't you use mine?" Harry said, offering me his. I was about to ask why using George's was a bad choice. Then, I looked and compared the two. I saw why.  
  
"Thank you, George," I said, politely. With Harry's broom in hand, I tried to get a feel for it. I held it in my hand. It was like I possessed something of great value. I could feel the power surging through it, seeming like an old friend, something I had held before.  
  
'Way too much of this stuff seems familiar,' I thought.  
  
"The first key to flying is." Alicia began.  
  
"No, no; I think I can get this," I stopped her.  
  
"Oh.ok."  
  
The whole team was hushed. All eyes on me, I stood over the broom, straddling it, keeping hold with one hand. I brought my second hand to the shaft, and crouched. My knees bent, I thought over what I was about to do.  
  
'Don't get yourself killed.'  
  
That was about all that was running through my mind.  
  
Deep breath.  
  
Kick.  
  
Leaping from the ground, I felt the broom's power kick in and lift me up into the sky. My feet still remained in their crouched position, ready for action. With determination, I tried to see what I could do. I managed a left turn and then a right. Increasing or decreasing my elevation took little effort and I tried a few dives. Dipping the tip of my broom, I careened towards the ground. Then, with feet to spare, I pulled up and flew back up into the sky. Everything came easily, a feeling which both comforted and worried me.  
  
Ready to try my skills on the bludger, I came back down next to the team. They all applauded, Harry and Ron the loudest of them.  
  
"You sure you've never flown?" George asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure," I said, trying to catch myself. I was even quite shocked at what I managed to do.  
  
"You fly like Harry," he went on to explain. "You managed to fly your first time, too, didn't you, without prior instruction?" To this, Harry nodded.  
  
Everyone let this sink in and I gripped the broom again. I needed more.  
  
"Can I try a bludger?" I asked, looking at the second one already locked in the box.  
  
"Yeah. I warn you though, Adam, they are dangerous. Fred, got."  
  
"I told 'em," Ron interjected.  
  
"Right."  
  
"So, can I?" I raised my eyebrows pleadingly.  
  
"Why not?" Alicia said. "We need a beater after all."  
  
"Okay," George said, kneeling beside the box. With his hand on the strap which held the bludger in, he looked up at me. "Ready?"  
  
"Let me have it," I said, taking off to allow myself some time until the bludger came up along with me. Down below, I could see Harry and George talking. Moments later, Harry borrowed one of the new chasers brooms and took off as well, heading towards me.  
  
"Hey there," I said, taking a deep breath of air.  
  
"Let's see how well you can protect me," Harry said, watching the ground, waiting.  
  
"I'll do my best."  
  
"You better. Re-growing bones it a bitch!" he said.  
  
'Re-growing?'  
  
With that, I heard a whistle. The bludger tore upwards through the air, targeting me.  
  
"Let's go!" I shouted. I zoomed towards it, meeting it before it got much further. Harry was staying close behind me.  
  
I smacked the ball, knocking it back. However, soon, it regained the will to continued and curved back and tried again. Once more, I beat it back. A second, third and fourth time, I managed the feat. Each time, it tried to come in at a different angle and speed.  
  
Harry began to distance himself further from me, making my task a tad more difficult, since the sphere wanted to smash up Harry as well.  
  
Reaching this time, I managed to head off the bludger before it collided with Harry. Contrary to my expectations, in catching a glimpse of Harry's face, I saw how calm and collected he was; to be honest, I would be far from 'calm and collected' if a rock-like, speed-loving ball had a beat on me.  
  
The ball made another pass at Harry and I hit it back again. However, even this wasn't enough of a challenge, clearly. Harry took off faster than before, and I had to step on it and catch up to him, while watching for the bludger at the same time. It approached on my right and I managed to hit it backhanded before it passed me.  
  
Zigzagging in all directions, I had to use all of my mental and physical strength to keep up to Potter. The bludger was back with a vengeance. Behind Harry, I saw it coming in on his left side. Harry was clipping along, but I managed to catch up just enough to smack it back, narrowly missing Harry's ribs.  
  
"One more, Adam," he shouted back to me. Harry zipped off in an upwards direction, hitting the 'afterburners'. I did so the best I could, although I could feel myself falling behind ever so slightly. What's worse is that I couldn't see the bludger.  
  
"Damn it! Where are you?" I said to myself.  
  
Harry then decided to fly close to the ground, which I did likewise. Surging along, all I could see were the blades of grass rushing under me, all blending together to form a solid mat of green. Looking back up, I saw it. Clearly, it understood that this was the last go, too, and it wanted a victim. The ball was heading straight on and would hit Harry in the head for sure. He knew also.  
  
"Adam, you gonna get this?"  
  
"Um." was my only response.  
  
With little time to chat, I tried to speed up, but all to no avail. The broom is only as good as the rider and even though I was managing better than average for my first time, I still couldn't do what Harry did on it.  
  
'Come on, come on.'  
  
I saw it coming towards him, faster and faster.  
  
"Adam.." Harry's voice grew more desperate.  
  
That moment, something clicked and a great need inside me grew.  
  
'I have to get it. I must.'  
  
A new kind of power, coming deep from within, took control of the broom. It was a feeling, an emotion that was the driving force behind this extra energy, but as to what that emotion was, I couldn't tell. With no time to think about it, I simply accepted it. Luckily, it had the desired effect.  
  
Boosting my speed, I managed I catch up to Harry. Flying over him, with feet before the bludger would make contact, I dove into Harry path and reached with my club.  
  
Success. The ball gave up and retreated. Before it could make another pass, Harry signaled that we should land. Agreeing, we touched down onto the field.  
  
"Nice going," Ron said.  
  
"I think you're beater material, Adam.er.sorry, what's your last name?"  
  
"Barrowton."  
  
"Well, Barrowton, welcome to the team." I shook her hand and as the team filed off the field, they did the same.  
  
"Nice flying," Harry said, coming up to me.  
  
"Yeah, yeah." I said in an unsure tone of voice.  
  
"You okay?" Ron asked, picking up on it.  
  
"Um.this maybe insane, but, Harry, did you.um.feel anything when we were up there?"  
  
"What do you mean?" He looked at me, pondering the meaning behind my words.  
  
"Um.when that last bludger was coming at you, I.I wasn't catching up to you, but then, all of a sudden, I got this extra surge, and I don't know where the hell it came from."  
  
"Hmmmm.." Ron said, thoughtfully.  
  
"Eh.probably the Nimbus 2001 Turbo kicking in," Harry explained.  
  
"Thankfully. That was close," I said, leaving the matter at that.  
  
"Too close if you ask me," Ron added.  
  
"Oh, and Adam?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can I have my broom back?" 


	5. Chapter 3: Confrontation

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
  
  
"I'm liking this robe thing."  
  
"The what?" Ron asked.  
  
"The robes, and the crest," I explained. "I've never worn something so cool. Makes me feel.bad."  
  
"How is that bad?" Harry inquired.  
  
"No, no, bad like good." They both gave me odd looks.  
  
"It's an American term."  
  
"Oh," the both echoed, returning their eyes to the plates of food before them.  
  
"Like the breakfasts here?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah, I do. Interesting items, but I never knew pumpkin juice could be so good. To tell you the truth, pumpkins kind of gross me out," I admitted.  
  
"How so?" Ron said, finishing a mouthful.  
  
"I guess the.the.guts inside. They smell.odd?"  
  
"You're kind of odd sometimes," Harry joked, causing Ron to chuckle. Even I couldn't help but smile.  
  
All around the hall, you could hear fork and spoons clanking against the metal plates. The food was spread down the entire length of the tables. Bowls overflowed with exotic fruits; loaves of bread were stacked in a pyramid fashion at some points. Among the food, a constant chatter flowed among the tables; almost a wall of sound surrounded us, forever unceasing.  
  
Lights, floating in mid-air, filled the room, gracing every corner of the massive hall with rich, warm, yellow rays. However, they weren't light bulbs, as I could see the brilliant flames lapping into the air, above the bowls which held them. Looking down the aisle, I could see a girl approaching us. Smiling and chatting as she went, stopping occasionally, I guessed she was a Gryffindor student.  
  
"Who's she?" I asked Ron, who was sitting next to me.  
  
"Oh, that's Hermione. You haven't met her yet?" Ron asked, almost shocked.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Well, here she comes..."  
  
She approached our area, and took notice of me. Smiling, she offered a hand.  
  
"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger."  
  
With great pleasure, I stood up to meet her and was immediately taken aback. She was beautiful. Her thick, brown hair, slightly wavy, tumbled down the back of her robes. To accompany this trait, her eyes were a magnificently deep, rich brown. Her entire face glowed with beauty and her personality matched it. Her voice was gentle and soothing. However, in taking in these features, I forget about my part of the introduction.  
  
Still shaking hands, she peered at me, wondering if I was still with her.  
  
"Ah.yes..Adam.er..Adam Barrowton."  
  
Sparing her from any more contact with my sweaty palm, I smiled and let go. She grinned slightly, as if to be understanding and took a seat on the other side of Ron. Even as I picked up my fork again, the color had not left my cheeks. Cautiously, I looked up from my food and caught Harry glancing at me. Silently, he laughed to himself.  
  
"Did you get that History of Transfiguration homework done?" Ron asked her.  
  
"Um.no. I was stuck on how to connect the Wizard of Turfington to what happened in Belfast," she said, wearing a long face. The defeat clearly left her depressed.  
  
I paused, my mouth this full. With all the reading I had been doing, I knew I had read something on that event. After pondering it for a few moments, I made my move.  
  
"Ron, are you referring to the Cazhdew event, where the rocks were transformed in to dragons by the League of Irish Wizards back in 1304 to act as a defense against goblins?"  
  
"Er.yeah. That is.how did you know that?" Ron asked, genuinely astonished. I could see Hermione peaking over his shoulder, studying me carefully.  
  
"With all the reading, I would have hoped to have retained some of it," I said, trying to be humorous.  
  
"So you're doing okay?" Harry inquired.  
  
"Yeah. I'm surviving," I answered, letting out a heavy sigh.  
  
"Well, if you need any help, Hermione is the one you want to go to," Ron said, gesturing to her with a nod of his head. She smiled at the thought.  
  
"I'm doing good for now. I'll keep the offer in mind, though."  
  
"Okay, okay, now go back to homework." Ron implored.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I picked a desk on the right side of the room. It was the one closest to the window, giving me the best spot to gaze out of it and curse the fact that I was inside on such a day. However, there was an added bonus to the empty spot.  
  
Hermione sat just to the left.  
  
Setting my books on the desk, I slipped in to the seat. Our eyes met, but little else. She smiled shyly and tuned back to looking at the front of the class. The teacher made his way up to the front and began shuffling his papers.  
  
'Is she mad at me?'  
  
I tried to get an emotional read on her from the side. She appeared to possess a natural disposition to have a slightly dejected face, so I left it at that and gave up on reading further into it.  
  
'Am I sitting to close?'  
  
I slid over to the right a little further, just for safety's sake. However, the previous distance between us didn't seem to be too small; I wasn't invading her space.  
  
'Hmmm..is it my face?'  
  
I put my hand to my chin. I hadn't shaved since I came. My five o'clock shadow had become a forty-eight hour one. I doubted it was that, since my facial hair grew in pretty fair. Often, no one would notice if I hadn't shaved for a week.  
  
'I doubt it's that. Maybe I came on to strong earlier.'  
  
Then, I broke into a sweat.  
  
'What if she already has a boyfriend?'  
  
My mind decided to bite the hand which fed it and made my innards turns to mush. Nervousness caused me to tense up in every muscle of my body. Clearly, I was rushing into things. All I knew was her name, after all. Besides, I had bigger things to worry about; class, for instance.  
  
The teacher had begun his lecture while I ran over all of these suspicions and worries. This was my third full day at Hogwarts' and I was definitely adjusting, for the most part. I was enjoying the lessons and the thought of having power. It was as if I was discovering myself all over again. All along I thought I was simply Adam; not that I hated that. However, now at Hogwarts', I found that everything had changed.  
  
All of these cosmetic changes aside, the most disturbing one was that weird feeling I got when Harry was around. It would happen when we ate breakfast, studied or did anything in which we were in close quarters. While that itself wasn't horrid, the fact that I had no idea what was causing such a feeling was. For the past two nights, I would lie awake and try to decipher it. Even then, I was affected by the feeling since he slept in the bunk just across the room from me. How long it would haunt me was the question I kept asking myself.  
  
'The faster I figure it out, the better.'  
  
I still hadn't mentioned it to anyone, although.  
  
I shifted my eyes slightly to the left.  
  
'Hermione?'  
  
"Mister Barrowton?"  
  
I froze. In a jerky fashion, I shifted my body to directly face the front. It was then that I realized that every set of eyes in the classroom was focused on me, waiting for what I guessed to be some response to a question. The professor wore a look of disdain and impatience. I was clearly in the hot seat.  
  
"I'm sorry; could you repeat the question, please?"  
  
Professor Pitwick sign gruffly, but obliged my request.  
  
"The first law governing the use of transfiguration. Can you describe why such a law was passed by the Council?" Eyes remained, waiting for me to sputter out some senseless answer and write my own failing grade.  
  
"Well," I began, taking in enough air to last me, "while the law did pass, it was none the less highly controversial. The controversy lied in the fact that it questioned for perhaps the first time the use of transfiguration by any wizard. Originally, it had been an unwritten law that only the most experienced wizard were permitted to practice such a feat. However, as more and more younger, less prepared wizards began to take on the task of attempting to transfigure objects, the council felt it necessary to monitor and restrict the its use. Even with the serious objections of the experienced wizards worldwide, the council went ahead and enacted said legislation."  
  
My piece said, I remained standing, waiting for assessment. Silence hung in the air for a few seconds.  
  
"Well done, Mister Barrowton; well done," the professor said, sounding almost disappointed that he wasn't able to catch a newcomer in a moment of weakness. With a slightly smug grin gracing my lips, I took my seat.  
  
"Very nice, Adam," Neville Longbottom said, turning around in his chair to congratulate me.  
  
"Neville!" the professor exclaimed, his voice booming. Turning white, Neville quickly turned back around and faced the front once again.  
  
"Professor?" Hermione asked, almost too sweetly.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"I must disagree with Adam. Although this legislation was highly controversial, the reasons he gave for its passage are quite invalid."  
  
"How is that?" Pitwick inquired, obviously wondering where this was going.  
  
"Yeah, how is that?" I repeated, curious why she was doing this to me.  
  
"Mister Barrowton, Miss Granger has the floor. Please continue."  
  
"Thank you. Even though a number of young wizards began to partake in transfiguration, they by no means abused the use of it. In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, it was a young wizard, Albin Tupildown, which was the main proponent behind the so-called legislation. It was only upon the strong and hasty reaction of the powerful, older wizards which led the council to consider such a law. They became suspicious that too much power lied in the hands of the elder practitioners of transfiguration, and passed the law for this reason; it wasn't to prevent anyone from practicing it, but to limit its use and weaken the former restrictions, which only permitted the most experienced wizards to use such a type of spell."  
  
Once again, silence was the word of choice for the moment.  
  
"Very true, and a very insightful perspective on the issue, as well, Miss Granger. Ten points for Gryffindor," Proffesor Pitwick said, and that was that.  
  
Wearing a smile that would make most people sick to their stomachs, she sat down, not even giving me a glance. I looked at her, hoping for a response.  
  
"What the hell did you do that for?" I whispered to her.  
  
"What are you talking about?" she whispered back, not breaking her gaze from the Professor who had resumed his lecture.  
  
"Showing me up like that!"  
  
"I didn't show you up; I simply answered the question."  
  
Her words made my blood curdle and my cheeks became hot with anger. I wasn't going to say anything else for fear of overstepping a line I didn't wish to breach. Stewing in my own frustration and irritation, I focused on my notes and gave up on trying to communicate with her for the time being.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Sorry!" I shouted to Harry, whizzing by him. The bludger had almost hit him, me arriving with the paddle just in time.  
  
It was the second and final scrimmage game of the pre-season. We had played against Hufflepuff and lost, although the closeness of the game made it a moral victory. We did manage to get one hundred and twenty points from our chasers, but it wasn't enough. The opposing team's seeker managed to grab the Golden Snitch in heavy traffic. Harry was close, but close wasn't good enough. The game ended with a dejected team and a very frustrated Mister Potter. Wanting to rebound, we all were taking this match more seriously, especially Harry.  
  
This made sense, since we were playing Slytherin.  
  
It was sixty to forty, their advantage, but it was much closer than then scoreboard showed. With Harry as our seeker, and Malfoy as theirs, what the students came to watch was whether the game could proceed without the teams coming to blows.  
  
The first night at Hogwarts', Harry and Ron explained the way Slytherin and the 'henchmen' associated with it worked. Although I listened and believed the two, I never realized how horrid Malfoy was until I met him on the way to breakfast the next morning. As the three of us passed him and his two thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, he glared at us, shooting daggers. For some reason, he seemed to single me out, something I took offence to. Returning the favor, we moved on without incident. However, I knew I wouldn't be able to preserve the peace for so long. I wasn't one put up with crap.  
  
The game was proceeding without too much animosity, although the tension between the two seekers was so thick I could feel it in the air, making it hard to concentrate on flying.  
  
I had improved over the first scrimmage. In that game, there was actually one I missed, even though I felt my fellow beater, Melton, a third- year student, should have had it. Taking the heat, I practiced for hours with Harry, with Ron looking on as usual. Hermione even showed up, but didn't wait around for me to say anything before she took off; it had been a week since the incident in class and she hadn't said much to me since besides the usual salutations.  
  
Melton and I had pretty much been following one bludger each during the match. In my view, it caused less confusion and therefore, fewer injuries.  
  
Mine seemed to be set on going after Harry, a matter which wasn't out of the ordinary, but made my job more difficult since he had a faster broom than I did at the time. For now, I had to do with the school-provided equipment until I could get down to Diagon Alley for a Nimbus.  
  
High above the other, Malfoy and Harry zipped every which way, each trying to get a good vantage point. Five feet to his right, I beat back the bludger which tried for Harry again. Sticking close to his side, we neared Malfoy who was coming at us in the opposite direction. I tried get further over to the left, in an attempt to give the junior Draco room to pass. Ignoring my attempts to be courteous, though, he inched closer to us as he approached. Two feet now between us, I gave up and moved higher, decided to fly over Harry, hopefully thwarting Malfoy's plans to cause trouble.  
  
Below, I saw him shift even further to the right, narrowly missing Harry. The inches that separated them weren't even enough to prevent their capes from brushing together. Harry wasn't shaken, but his balance was tampered with, and he swayed for a minute, trying to get it back. I could see the look on his face, but he did nothing else, didn't even say a thing.  
  
"Harry, you okay?" I asked. I could see that I was more pissed than he was over the matter.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine.bludger.."  
  
Without looking, I smacked it back, sending it across the field.  
  
"You shouldn't put up with it, Harry."  
  
"Adam, I'm not one to start something. Usually when I do, it ends up being a mess."  
  
"From what I hear, I believe it."  
  
He turned to me, giving me a glance which said 'Thanks' in the most dry and sarcastic way possible. I simply guffawed.  
  
Then, without hesitation, I saw him take off. Falling towards the Earth, I couldn't see what he was chasing after, but with Malfoy close behind him, I could easily guess what it was. The Golden Snitch had entered the stadium.  
  
The two zoomed around the stadium, hugging the ground closely. Meanwhile, above their heads and below mine, Gryffindor managed to but twenty more points on the board, typing the game up. Good efforts aside, the points mattered little now; what mattered was capturing that golden sphere and ending the game.  
  
I began to descend as well, seeing my bludger beginning to follow Harry once again. A few feet above him, almost hovering over the chase, I smacked the ball back. My aim was perfect and just missed the one of the other team's beaters. Giving him a smile and a friendly wave, I looked back just in time to see Harry grasp the Snitch within his hand. To the roar of the crowd, Harry landed, triumphantly displaying the closed fist which held the prized possession.  
  
While we began to file off the field, I saw the beater for Slytherin that I nearly hit talking with Malfoy, a very dejected Malfoy at that. He pointed a threatening finger directly at me. A few of his cronies on the team sneered, sending a message I didn't like.  
  
"Harry, come on."  
  
"What?" he asked, still reveling in his catch. The game was over and the fans had begun to leave, but he still was happy at the turn around that had taken place during the game.  
  
"Come on," I repeated.  
  
I began to stalk across the field, towards Malfoy, Harry a few footsteps behind, not quite understanding what was going on.  
  
"What's your problem?" I shouted at him as we got within a few feet.  
  
Malfoy merely let of a frosty, venomous chuckle.  
  
"And who the hell do you think you are?"  
  
"You can call me whatever you want because you're gonna be hearing my name a lot," I stated, walking up to with in a few inches of him, two of his teammates moving closer to their seeker. "People will shout it, warning you every time I come after your sorry ass."  
  
"Amazing, they let some muggle into this school and you have the balls to threaten me?"  
  
"Oh, I do," I responded.  
  
"Adam, relax," I heard Harry whisper behind my back. I easily ignored him.  
  
"You should watch what you say. Words often cause trouble of all sorts, just as with your little shot earlier at our beater," Malfoy said in a very cocky fashion. The very beater he was speaking of stood just to his left, his arms folded, fists clenched.  
  
"Don't mess with Potter, Malfoy. I may not be a pure-blood but I do have the gonads to take you down, so help me God." I nearly spoke the final few words though barred teeth, and pointed a finger right back at him, nearly poking him in the chest. With a snide laugh and a glare, he and his teammates stormed off the field, checking over their backs every so often.  
  
That finished, I turned and began to walk off the field as well, Harry tagging along once again.  
  
"Adam, what was that?"  
  
"What was what?" I asked, innocently. The steam let off, most of my hostility was gone.  
  
"That!" he responded dramatically, using his hand to gesture to the spot where the frank exchange of ideas took place.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry. I just won't put up with people messing with me." I rested the broom on my shoulder as we headed towards an exit of the stadium.  
  
"But it wasn't over you! It involved only me!"  
  
"Does that bother you that I stood up for you?" I asked in a sincere fashion.  
  
"Well, no, not really. But I don't see why you had to."  
  
"I.I." I stammered. I couldn't explain why I did it. I knew that it arose from that feeling I had inside, but to try and explain a sentiment I didn't even understand would have only complicated matters. It was why I had defended him, I knew that, but that was all I did know.  
  
"I just felt like messing with their heads a little, making sure they stay on their toes."  
  
"Well, looks like you managed to do that," he said, allowing himself to smile. I did as well. 


	6. Chapter 4: Cloaks

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
  
  
I was on en route to my first class of the day. It was already October. The air had altered itself, shifting from a fair, late summer breeze, to a chilly, biting autumn wind. With each passing day, heavier cloaks were needed to be worn during outside activities, with the exception of Quidditch of course; however, flying up above the action, taking a moment to breathe, it got cold and made you want to dive right back into the action.  
  
Our team was perfect so far, two and zero. However, we had yet to take on Slytherin in a regular season match. That game was awaiting us, only four days out, taking place on a Friday. Since classes would be over for the week, it would be a game everyone would be sure to attend.  
  
Little else had changed. Classes still were taxing my patience, but I managed to make do. Slowly, the workload was beginning to lessen. I had taken most of the tests needed to prove I had learned all the lessons I missed, those taught in the first- and second-year. Though some were way too close for comfort, I had managed to pass each of them and was now concentrating on more advanced lessons. On top of that, in three of my classes, I had the top marks.  
  
Thankfully, Hermione had seemed to soften her image around me. We would talk in class sometimes about the lecture and spend nights studying in the Gryffindor common room, but outside of schoolwork, we did little else. It almost seemed as if she avoided me at times, which make me uneasy.  
  
Luckily, I had a great group of friends. Harry, Ron and I were pretty much inseparable. We would always have something interesting to talk about, be it Quidditch, professors, the upcoming events or just the usual, pointless topics circulating through the school at the time. I had a true feeling of belonging, something I had desired for even when I was back home. For once, I had true friends and a place to call my own.  
  
"Adam," Ron said to me, breaking my train of thought. I didn't even notice him approaching me in the hall.  
  
"Yeah?" I asked, stopping in front to of him. We stood off to the side, allowing others to pass by.  
  
"You off to the 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' class?"  
  
"Yeah, why?" I asked, becoming curious. It was then that I noticed the perspiration on his forehead and neck.  
  
"I would avoid going your usual way."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"I don't know how it started but it is pretty much one huge brawl."  
  
"A brawl? You're serious?" I was shocked at the thought.  
  
"Yeah. Some pretty nasty spells are being used."  
  
"So, in other words, 'go and watch'? Is that what you're saying?" I asked, smiling wickedly.  
  
"Hey, do what you want. I won't be held responsible, though, if a stray spell hits you and you're turned into a crouton." With that, Ron laughed and walked back to the Gryffindor tower.  
  
I made two turns and went up a flight of stairs as usual. Even at this distance, I could hear the commotion already. Screams and shouts filled the hall I was in, even though they clearly weren't there. As I got closer to my class, I could hear it intensify in volume. Finally, rounding the final corner, I saw it.  
  
Perhaps thirty kids were in a large circle which surrounded the action. I walked up calmly and tried to stand on my tiptoes, to get a look at what was going on. Two students had their wands pointed at each other and they were circling, never breaking eye contact with each other. Both of them had battle wounds: scratches covered their faces, and one had a bloody upper lip. They were silent for a while, and then:  
  
"Conjunctiva!" one of them shouts. A brilliant light shot out of the wand, hitting his opponent between the eyes. The victim's head lashed backwards, almost as if it was physically hit. Letting out a blood-curdling scream, he fell to the floor, clutching his face.  
  
Seeing this, we all gasped and stood stony-faced, watching on horror. Two or three of the spectators across from where I was standing tried to approach the apparent victor, but he turned his wand on them, and they slid back to their spots in the ring. The student continued to writhe on the floor. His moans nearly drowned out the sound of heavy footsteps which were approaching form behind.  
  
"STOP!"  
  
I turned around to see about five people running towards the scene. One of them was a prefect, followed by two nurses, Madam McGonagall and Dumbledore.  
  
"Out of my way!" the nurses shouted. Slipping through an opening, they crouched over the injured boy, who was now laying on his stomach, moaning slightly, just enough to let us know he was alive.  
  
The perpetrator, who stood, watching his victim be tended to, had changed drastically over the past few seconds. The eyes, recently filled with rage and hated, were now wide, and possessed a look of shock and terror. His mouth hung open, and his hands began to quiver. The wand slipped from his fingers.  
  
Looking up, almost directly in my direction, his lips began to form words.  
  
"What have I.done?"  
  
It was Crabbe. It took me a moment to remember the worm's name, but I had no doubt that it was him.  
  
"Mister Crabbe, I believe we should have a chat," Dumbledore said, calmly. Even in such a situation, he managed to remain the cool-headed one. With an expressionless face, Crabbe paced over to Dumbledore and followed him out of the ring.  
  
"Everyone! Get to your classes!" Miss McGonagall chided. We all began to disperse, but not before catching one last glimpse of the lifeless body which occupied a good part of the hallway. As he was hoisted on to a stretcher, I looked into his face.  
  
It was Goyle.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I sat in a high-backed chair, one of the pieces which rested before the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. I had quite a bit of homework to finish before I could even think about the amount I had received that day, but it was difficult to concentrate, with all the pandemonium which had played itself out only a few hours ago  
  
Besides the crackling fire before me, the only other visitor in the room was Hermione. Sitting in the sofa next to my chair, she had a book on her lap, and then what appeared to be a notebook beside her. The light of the fire brought out the soft features of her face. Hermione's cheeks seemed to glow and a slight blush could be seen on them. Her brown eyes glistened softly as they shifted left to right. Resting on her right shoulder, her hair seemed to almost glint as a few loose strands managed to catch some of the fire's light.  
  
Enraptured with what she was reading, I hesitated. I wanted to talk to someone about what had happened; she might know something about what was going on. I tried to start twice, but each time stopped myself; surrendering, I went back to the reading before me.  
  
"What were you going to ask me?"  
  
I turned to the left, to get a look at her.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I watched you. You were going to say something, but then gave up. What were you going to say?" She seemed genuine and even wore a grin. All her attention was being spent on me, so I took advantage of my position.  
  
"You know where my Dark Arts Defense class is?"  
  
"Um.yeah. I had a class in that room a year ago."  
  
"Well, in that same hall, there was a huge fight today."  
  
"A fight?" she asked. She immediately perked up. Her back straightened and she leaned in my direction, as if to try and make sure she was hearing me correctly.  
  
"Yeah," I said, in a philosophical fashion. I rubbed my chin, wanting to stretch this conversation out, enjoying the fact that she finally noticed me.  
  
"And." she prodded.  
  
"Ron told me that they were casting spells at each other, but I got there in time only to see the final move, when one of them shouted 'Conjunctiva' and the other kid was hit in the face."  
  
"Oh no! Conjunctiva affects the vision of the target! It can be very damaging, sometimes permanent!" She seemed to know her spells, so I took her word for it.  
  
"Yeah, it looked serious."  
  
"Did you see who it was?"  
  
"That's the weird thing."  
  
"What is?" Hermione asked me as she slid across the couch so that she was directly next to me.  
  
I paused.  
  
"It was Crabbe and Goyle." Confused as I was over the matter, I felt it showed in the look on my face.  
  
"Crabbe and Goyle?!? Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive, I wouldn't forget faces like that."  
  
"That is really odd." At her stating this, I could see the wheels begin to turn in her head.  
  
"I thought they were friends." At least, that was what I supposed they were since I hadn't ever seen them apart.  
  
"They are; at least, they were."  
  
"Good point," I conceded.  
  
"Do you know what caused it?"  
  
"No clue. After Crabbe hit the ground, and it appeared to be over, Goyle's personality pulled a one-eighty and he got all white and said, 'What have I done?' Pretty disturbing, really."  
  
We both sat there, without speaking a word for a while. The last few rays of the sun trickled in through the windows and rolled over my left shoulder, landing on the floor just in front of the mantle. As the time passed, I could see the area that the light covered begin to shrink, and finally, disappear.  
  
Every so often, I would shift my gaze in the direction on Hermione. She was looking into the fireplace, probably trying to figure out what was going on. Her head was resting in the palm of her right hand, her right elbow resting on the couch's arm. Looking content, I decided not to add anything else. Stacking my books, I rose and was about to walk off.  
  
"Adam?" she called to me.  
  
"Hmmm?" I spun around and gave her my attention.  
  
"Care to sit down?" With a hand, she offered an empty space to the left of her. Without showing too much excitement, I walked over to her and sat in the spot she had designated. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I folded them as casually as possible, resting them in my lap.  
  
"Adam, I believe I owe you an apology."  
  
Still focused on what to do with my hands, I wasn't able to say anything that would have made sense. A little shocked at her words, I said nothing and waited for her to continue.  
  
"It wasn't right of me to belittle you in class. What you said was correct; I just felt a need to be the one receiving the recognition."  
  
"It's okay," was all I could muster.  
  
"It's a fault of mine. I feel this need to always be right and have the last word."  
  
"Really, Hermione," I said, carefully choosing my words, "it's not a fault at all. Yeah, I didn't really like it, mind you. However, it was a month ago, and since then, I've given it a lot of thought. You are a brilliant person." She seemed unprepared for my candidness, as I saw her eyes shift towards me, almost trying to dissect what I was saying.  
  
"You are the smartest person I know, and when someone tries to come in and steal what you have worked so hard for, you begin to feel threatened; I think anyone would. What you did was natural," I finished. Turning to me, she smiled warmly.  
  
"Thank you.for understanding."  
  
Staring into her eyes, I could she a girl who wasn't often understood.  
  
"No problem."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The moon light sifted through the window panes and splashed along the stone halls, and occasionally our feet as well. The rocks were extremely cold against our feet and goose bumps ran up the length of my spine, sending a chilling vein of iciness to every limb in my body.  
  
Hermione was sticking close to me, and it was a good thing since the cloak barely covered us as it was. Harry had lent us his invisibility cloak; true, we woke him up to ask him and I'm not sure he knew what we were asking for, but we managed to get it. Slipping through the narrow halls toward the Slytherin tower, I was glad Hermione had thought to bring it.  
  
"Why do you think they were fighting?" she whispered to me.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"I don't like it. It doesn't add up."  
  
After a moment of silence and thought, I replied: "Not everything that happens is required to add up." In response, she merely nodded slightly.  
  
We continued on, unhindered. Besides the occasional whisper, we made not a single sound as we slipped along the corridor towards the 'snake' den. Even though we weren't in their tower yet, we could feel how much colder it was the closer we came to the door leading to their common room. Fewer and fewer pictures lined the walls, almost as if no one desired to be closely associated with the house. Lighting became even sparser and dankness filled the air, giving off a stench of death and decay.  
  
"I love what they've done with the place," I said, trying to keep the mood light. I felt a playful elbow poke my ribs, letting me know she had heard my quip.  
  
"What do you think we'll find?" I asked her, since it was her idea to come here in the first place.  
  
"I have no clue, but for that kind of fighting to break out between two friends and then end in such a fashion is beyond odd. Either the Slytherin House is falling apart or.or."  
  
I gulped.  
  
"Vold--," I began, but I didn't need to continue. She understood and looked at me gravely.  
  
'I may be in way over my head here,' I thought.  
  
"Okay, we're here," she said a moment later. Before us was the small portal which would take us into the heart of our greatest rival's headquarters.  
  
"How do we get in?"  
  
"Oh crap, I forgot. You need a password."  
  
"Hello? Who's there?" The picture hanging over the portal, a gatekeeper in a away, began to question us. Clearly, it was confused, probably from hearing a voice, but seeing nobody. We stood still, frozen, and didn't dare move a muscle. Thirty seconds into this stand-off, 'bad' became 'worse'.  
  
Behind us, at the opposite end of the hall, we could hear footsteps. Pushing our luck, we turned around, to look down the hall and see who was approaching.  
  
Two people, one quite taller than the other, both male.  
  
They kept approaching, their target probably being the very door we were standing on front of. We needed to think up a way out, and fast. The hall was too narrow for us to merely stay put and wait it out, and even if we stood against the wall, there was a good chance our cloaks might brush against each other, giving our position away.  
  
To our left and right, there were two doors. Giving Hermione a slight nudge, and a nod, we shifted silently to the left side of the hall. Testing the door latch, it didn't budge. Who ever was approaching was now just thirty feet from us, and closing in fast. Mouthing a silent prayer, we edge forward, closing the gap even further. Grasping the latch of the second door, it gave. Opening it swiftly, we snuck in and shut it quickly, with just moments to spare.  
  
Pressing our ears against the door, the heard the two sets of footsteps stop just beyond where we were.  
  
"Black Pincushions."  
  
At hearing that, we both gasped. That voice.  
  
"Malfoy," I mouthed to Hermione. Again, she only nodded, intent on catching every word.  
  
"Mister Malfoy, if we need to get in contact with you again over this matter, we expect full." It was Dumbledore.  
  
"I don't need your lecturing! I don't know anything now and I won't know anything tomorrow! Good bye!" With that, we heard Malfoy's footsteps trail off and echo, hinting at his departure through the portal, leaving his headmaster behind. Seconds passed, and then the Dumbledore's footsteps became audible as well, this time heading in the opposite way, leaving Slytherin tower behind. We were once again alone.  
  
Forgetting that we still had the cloak on, I slipped it off and stood up. Crouching for that long is far from comfortable and my back ached when I began to stretch. The room we hid in was nearly pitch black, its air even more putrid than the hall's. I could hear the squeak of a rat and I stood paralyzed. My hair standing up on end, I felt something touch my foot.  
  
"Ohhhhhh," I said, letting off a low moan. It was all I could do to prevent myself from screaming in terror.  
  
"It was just the cloak," Hermione whispered to me. I looked down and through the dim light, I saw the hole in her body; though surprised, I realized that she was merely holding the blanket, resulting in the illusion.  
  
"You okay?" she said, warmly. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she looked at me with concern. Touched, my tension disappeared and my pulse finally began to return to normal.  
  
"I'm good. Thanks."  
  
My eyes searched the room for the source of the light. Ahead, a few feet, the light began to grow more intense. Walking with the utmost care, we proceeded further into the room, not knowing exactly where it would lead.  
  
Twenty feet in, the room opened up. The walls became rounded forming a circular space. The low ceiling vanished as well, leaving an arching, glass dome in its place. Through the dirty panes, minute bits of moonlight managed to slip through, providing the dim lighting that sparked our curiosity.  
  
Standing in the middle of the room, I saw that the walls were barren; it was stone from the floor up to the panes, and nothing else.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"I have no clue. Gryffindor students usually avoid this hall."  
  
"Really? It's kind of." I paused, searching for the right word, ".charming."  
  
"Yeah, Adam, real charming." She laughed quietly and began to stroll around the room, staying close to the walls, in search of anything interesting.  
  
"Hello.." I murmured to myself, slowly. Spotting what appeared to be a coat hung on the wall, I stepped closer to get a better look. Hermione noticed and joined me.  
  
"It's covering something," Hermione deduced. Grabbing it with one hand, I prepared to remove the cloth.  
  
"Think that's a good idea?" she asked, stopping me in mid-motion.  
  
"Well, if we're this deep in the hole, might as well follow Alice all the way down." Still holding on, I stood off to the side, just as a precaution, something that Hermione mimicked. Mustering up all the courage I had, I gave the sheet a tug and it slid off.  
  
Covered in cobwebs and grime, a full-length mirror stood before us. The reflective surface hidden under a layer of thick dust, and the once- golden rim chipped and cracked in some spots. Bruises aside, it was a remarkable piece of work and must have been a magnificent specimen at one time.  
  
"The Mirror of Erised." Hermione whispered in awe.  
  
"Erised?"  
  
"Yes, 'desire' backwards."  
  
"I see. Why 'desire'?"  
  
"It reveals to you your innermost desires when you stand before it," she explained. "It helped us out a while ago, but to prevent trouble in the future, Dumbledore said that it would be destroyed."  
  
"So much for that plan," I added walking around it, trying to view it from every angle. "This is just what I needed."  
  
"'Just what you needed?' What would you need this for?" Hermione was admiring the mirror form a distance, almost as if she feared getting to close to it.  
  
"Lately, I've had an...well..an unexplainable feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I only notice it when Harry is around. Forgive me if this sounds odd, but it's almost as if it's compelling me to watch over him." I turned to look at Hermione, to gauge her reaction to my words  
  
"Like you're his keeper?"  
  
"Something like that, although I'm actually a beater."  
  
It took her a moment to get the joke, but I could see why. Midnight had come and gone hours ago and the strenuous past few minutes didn't help put our minds at rest either.  
  
"However, I think this could help me figure out what's behind it, with any luck." Using the sleeve of my outer cloak, I started to brush away the dust. Starting at the bottom, the cleaned glass revealed what I surmised to be a pair of shoes, three pairs to be exact. Not surprisingly, legs were attached to these shoes, and soon torsos became visible as I continued to work away.  
  
Halfway up, on the left side, I cleared away the dust to find myself, looking right back at me.  
  
"My God," I said under my breath.  
  
"What do you see, Adam?"  
  
I said nothing. Clearing away more soot to get a better look, I found myself looking into the face of a two-year old Adam Barrowton. I couldn't help but smile at the discovery. I had no baby pictures of what I looked like at that age, so this was a rare treat to say the least. My appetite whet, I was determined to see what other treasures were hidden behind the grime.  
  
Scrubbing with finesse, I managed to get the rest of the mirror cleaned off. Stepping back, I stood motionless, shocked at what I had uncovered. Hermione stood to the right of me.  
  
"Oh wow..oh wow."  
  
"What? What do you see Adam?"  
  
"Don't you.see it..." I stammered, point with a trembling finger at the mirror.  
  
"Only the person who seeks an answer can see it."  
  
My mouth remained open, but I didn't speak; I couldn't have if I had wanted too.  
  
I did manage to squeak out "Oh my.", but beyond this level of communication I was at a loss. Without knowing it, I took a few rigid steps back from the mirror. Every joint in my body seemed locked into place. Directly in the moon's rays, I took on a ghastly look, merely adding to my abnormal state.  
  
"Adam!" Hermione pleaded, looking back and forth between me and the mirror. "Adam, please, what do you see?!?"  
  
"We have to go," I said, ignoring her wishes. I began to side step away from the circular room and back towards the door which we entered through. Hermione unrolled the invisibility cloak quickly and hurried after me. I was already opening the door, not checking to see is anyone was in the hall. Without warning, Hermione threw my half of the cloak over my head and we hurried into the hall, running back to where we had started. 


	7. Chapter 5: Encouragement

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter Five  
  
  
  
  
  
"Why are eggs so easy to overcook?" Ron muttered, looking at the omelet before him in disgust.  
  
"Stop whining," Harry replied, dryly.  
  
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. The Slytherin game is only three days away; if anything, I think you should be concerned about what to have for breakfast. It will make or break the game."  
  
Harry, as if in an attempt to shut Ron up, reached across the table and stabbed the omelet with his fork once, and lifted the whole entrée off of his plate. Setting it down on his own, Harry cut off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Chewing it slowly, he put all his attention on testing the quality of the bite.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ron; it's fine," Harry said, giving his evaluation.  
  
"Well, I thought it was overdone."  
  
"And now it's mine," Harry smiled mockingly.  
  
Ron frowned and reigned to pushing the remainder of the food around his plate.  
  
"Hey there," Hermione said, taking her usual spot next to Ron. As she began to spoon food onto her plate, her eyes wandered around the table.  
  
"Where's Adam?" she asked, trying to see how high of a pile of hash browns she could manage to build.  
  
"He's not feeling tops today," Harry explained. "Last night, he slept really fitfully, constantly tossing and turning. I think something is bothering him."  
  
Both Ron and Harry looked at Hermione. Careful not to use any unusual facial responses, she merely shook her head in empathetic understanding and began to reach for the maple syrup.  
  
"Anyway, the poor guy is just lying on his bed; he didn't even change his clothes," Ron said.  
  
As if to signal a shift in conversation, shouts materialized in the dining hall. All three of them shifted their gazes to where the commotion was coming from, along with every other student currently dining. They appeared to be coming from the Ravenclaw table, and as soon as all the other chatting died down, their rants and curses were all that could be heard.  
  
"You take that back!" one of the two girls shouted who was involved in the confrontation.  
  
"Whatever! You're the one who's wrong!" responded the other.  
  
"Bring it on," the first hissed, brandishing her wand, taking it out of an inner pocket, hidden within her robes. To this, the other mimicked the action and the two were now opposing each other, wands in hand, ready for battle.  
  
Other students from the Ravenclaw table stood up from their meals, and started to ally themselves with one of the two students.  
  
"Things are getting ugly," Harry whispered, barely audible to the others around him.  
  
However, just before the first spell was cast, Dumbledore appeared in the doorway of the Great Hall. His presence caused a hush to fall over the entire room, and all eyes were on him within seconds. Even the though the two Ravenclaw students still clutched their wands, they gave their attention to the headmaster as well.  
  
"What is going on here?" he questioned. Although his voice was full of concern, it contained no trace of furry or wrath; it was merely an inquiry.  
  
No one was able to respond, since everyone outside of the battling duo had no clue what was occurring themselves. Even the two whom might have been able to answer the great wizard were at a loss. The tension between them seemed to dissipate almost immediately and they let their arms drop to their sides, signaling the end of the tiff. Those who had surrounded the two took their seats and the whole matter was over within a few moments.  
  
Dumbledore remained in the doorway, but did nothing else. Much like a hawk, his eyes scanned over those in the Great Hall, as if trying to look for something peculiar. Pausing at the spot where Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting, the four shared glances, but soon broke them, as headmaster turned and left the students to their breakfasts.  
  
Peace had been restored.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Don't you think that's odd, that Dumbledore did nothing?" Ron asked Harry and Hermione as they walked back towards Gryffindor tower.  
  
"Yeah, I was thinking that," Harry said, appearing to take Ron's comment into deep consideration.  
  
"Maybe he knows something." Ron spoke in between bites of orange.  
  
"But that still doesn't mean he wouldn't have dealt with the two kids," Harry responded, using a hand to gesture his point.  
  
"Maybe the matter is out of the students' hands." Hermione spoke cautiously, careful not to say anything that would raise suspicions about any late night investigations. She hadn't mentioned what she and Adam had discovered last night, and wanted to keep it that way. It was best to wait until Adam was in a more stable state of mind to say anything about their adventure.  
  
"Out of the students' hands? Like, there is something forcing them to fight?" The final question from Ron made his voice shake a bit, wavering in pitch. His nervousness shined through in fearful eyes, looking directed straight ahead, down the hall.  
  
"I think we all know what that could mean," Harry said calmly, signing as he spoke, checking the reactions of his companions. In a darker tone, he continued.  
  
"We should prepare ourselves for anything. If it can happen to other students' relationships, then.."  
  
All three knew the rest of the statement without it being said; it was unnecessary. Not know what else to talk about, the three continued on in silence.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I heard two knocks.  
  
"Adam?"  
  
Knock, knock, knock.  
  
"Adam? Are you there?"  
  
The door to my room opened. I wasn't able to actually see it open, but with its unique 'whine', it was easy to tell if it was moving on its hinges.  
  
"Adam."  
  
Her angelic voice pleaded for me to look up. I had been lying on my bed for nearly twelve hours, doing nothing but thinking and occasionally crying. My tear stained pillow was damp against my face, but I refused to rise form it. Very little good could come of it.  
  
"Adam, talk to me, please."  
  
It was useless. I had lost the battle; I looked up and saw Hermione standing in the doorway.  
  
"Oh, Adam." she said, seeing what a wreck I was. Even with all the tears, my face was pale, as were my hands. My eyes were bloodshot and I was pretty sure I had really bad breath.  
  
Shutting the door behind her quietly, she stepped over to my bed and sat on the edge. After a slight hesitation, she placed a hand on my back and began to soothingly rub it. I grunted slightly; feeling that physical contact was nourishment for my aching soul.  
  
"Adam, I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be," I mumbled into my pillow, doubting she'd hear it.  
  
"No, I am. I knew what the repercussions of looking into that mirror would be, but I let you go ahead anyway. I didn't warn you."  
  
With only minor difficulty, I managed to shift onto my side, so that I was now looking directly at her. As always, she looked radiant; adding insult to injury, a pang struck up in my heart.  
  
"You warned me plenty, Hermione. I was the one who tugged off the cloth, I was the one who cleaned it off, and I was the one..to.." My voice just trailed off. Leaving it at that, I decided to fiddle with my tie. I hadn't even changed clothes when we got back from last night's escapades. Too drained, too exhausted, I simply laid down on top of the bed, and drifted off into a stressed, unfulfilling sleep.  
  
Even without looking at the clock, I could tell it must have been around mid-afternoon. I had missed all my classes; at the current situation, they mattered little to me. Speaking of which.  
  
"Hermione, don't you have class right now?"  
  
"Don't worry about it," she said, brushing off the thought as if it was nothing.  
  
"Don't miss class over me; one of us needs to be smart." With that, I rolled back onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow.  
  
"Making sure you're okay is much more important to me than class."  
  
"You mean that?" I asked, forcing myself onto my side once more.  
  
She nodded, a motion which allowed her gorgeous locks to spill about her shoulders.  
  
"I would like to help you, Adam. Please, tell me what you saw. I won't say a word to."  
  
"No, Hermione," I began, finally deciding to sit up, "I trust you, wholeheartedly."  
  
At this, her face brightened a bit.  
  
"It's just that I don't think I could..explain it."  
  
"Is it that same feeling you get around Harry?" she inquired.  
  
"It's similar, but even more drastic; I feel like I've been punched in the stomach or something, I suppose."  
  
She scooted up next to me. Shoulder to shoulder, I felt secure and a little stronger than before.  
  
"Was it some evil spirit?"  
  
"No; quite the opposite, actually. I saw..I saw me."  
  
"Is that bad?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"It wasn't me now, you understand," I explained, finding it hard to suppress a smile, "but it was me then. It looked as if I was no older than two, if that."  
  
Hermione grabbed a box of tissues which sat on the floor below my bed. Handing me the box, I accepted one and blew my nose.  
  
"I'm sorry. It's embarrassing."  
  
"No, it's not. Go on, please."  
  
I felt a soft, petite hand take hold of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. Almost instantly, I squeezed back. Face to face, I saw her smile when I reciprocated.  
  
'I'm gonna be okay.'  
  
"Well, I was there; I had no problem with that. I mean, I have never seen what I looked like at that young of an age."  
  
"You have no baby pictures?" she asked, somewhat astonished.  
  
"Not one, and yes, I have wondered why that is. I have, many times."  
  
I paused, gathering my thoughts, and attempted to moisten my dry mouth.  
  
"What I saw, I..just can't believe."  
  
'I can't do this.'  
  
Another squeeze.  
  
Deep breath.  
  
"Hermione, I think I saw my parents."  
  
"Isn't that good?" she wondered.  
  
"I think I've been living a lie all these years. The parents I live with weren't the ones in the mirror."  
  
Waiting for a response, I only got silence.  
  
"I'm sorry, Adam. Forgive me, but I don't quite understand."  
  
My eyes we're welling up. Grabbing another tissue, I blew my nose, ignoring the tears.  
  
"What I'm saying is the parents that bore me, the ones I saw in the mirror, are not the parents I live with now," I explained.  
  
Hermione understood, nodding as I spoke.  
  
"Adam, how do you even know that the people you saw in the mirror were even your parents to begin with?" she asked sympathetically.  
  
"Like I said, I can't explain it. I must sound like a nut to you, huh? All these feelings and sentiments of mine." I said, looking out the window directly across the room from where we were sitting.  
  
"I have never said that, Adam. Have I?"  
  
"No, you haven't," I admitted, accepting another tissue.  
  
"So you're sure they are you're parents?"  
  
"I'm positive."  
  
With that, I leaned my head on her shoulder. She held onto my hand tightly, gently stroking the skin between my thumb and forefinger. Everything felt right; even in the screwed up situation I was in, I felt content there, next to Hermione.  
  
"What do they look like?"  
  
"Well, my father wore glasses, and had kind of wild black hair; short, but kind of spiked. He.(I laughed softly).he looked like what a smart guy should look like. My mother had long, red-orange hair; it just kind of rolled down her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled like jewels. She was just.remarkable, to put it plainly.but." I stopped, biting my lower lip.  
  
"But what?"  
  
"It's odd; she seemed to be pregnant in the picture."  
  
"Pregnant?"  
  
"Yeah, but I don't remember having a brother or sister."  
  
A felt Hermione tense up.  
  
"You okay?" I asked, turning to look at her.  
  
"Yeah.how old are you?"  
  
"Me? I'm eighteen. I'm old for my grade. One of the oldest, in fact," I added on. "Why?"  
  
"And you say that you looked to be about two in the mirror?"  
  
"About, probably a little younger. I'm not usually any good at guessing ages. Why? Why are you asking me all this?" I asked her.  
  
She got up from the bed and walked over to Harry's bureau. On it rested his personal items, along with a thick book which I had assumed to be a diary. Spotting it, she opened it up.  
  
"Hermione, that's Harry's!"  
  
Ignoring me, she flipped towards the back of the tome. A few pages later, she stopped, and picked up the book, holding it open to the page she had found. With it in hand, she began to walk back to where I sat.  
  
"Adam, what I am about to show you may shock you. If you don't want me to show you.I won't."  
  
"Show me," I said plainly, after considering her offer.  
  
Putting the book before my eyes, I saw a picture, a single three by two picture pasted onto a page. The two of them were there, but I was no where to be seen. Instead, dad appeared to be holding a baby. It wasn't me.  
  
The pain in my stomach materialized all of a sudden, stronger than ever before.  
  
"Oh God, that's them."  
  
"Are you sure?" she asked, in a serious voice.  
  
"That is them! How did you.how.why is it in Harry's book?"  
  
Confused, all I could do was laugh. Hermione looked at me steadily, seeming almost to be at a loss of words.  
  
Then it hit me.  
  
"Oh my God. No, no, no..NO! It's not true!" I got up and began to pace about the room like a mad man. My fists were clinched, my face reddened.  
  
"Adam, calm down, please," she pleaded, standing by, watching me spew babble.  
  
"I've been living a lie, Hermione. Everything I've done, is fake, is.pointless!!!"  
  
Suddenly, I felt very drained; every ounce of energy I once had was spent. I began to feel very weak and I could feel my legs buckle underneath me. Before I could grab a bedpost, Hermione was already there. Wrapping her arms around me, she managed to keep me up and off the floor.  
  
"It's okay, Adam," she cooed. "It will all be okay."  
  
Sitting me on the edge of the bed, she began to loosen my tie. I hardly noticed and began to sob.  
  
"Why does it have to be this way? All I did was fall into.take a wrong step and the shit hits the fan.it's.mind boggling."  
  
Quickly, she had taken off the tie and the rest of uniform as well. Leaving only momentarily, she grabbed a pair of pajamas from the dresser.  
  
"God.Hermione why is all this so painful?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Adam; I really am," she said, slipping the pajama top over my head. "If there was anything I could do to make it better."  
  
"You have." It was the first clear, coherent thing I had said for minutes.  
  
"Thank you," I said, looking up at her, admiring her beauty. "Thank you."  
  
As she smiled, I could see tears beginning to collect in her eyes.  
  
"Slide in there," she said, having pulled back the covers of my bed. I did so, enjoying the feel of the covers weighing down on my body. Sinking into the mattress, my eye closed almost immediately.  
  
Soon after, though, I felt a pair of lips brush against mine. They were warm and soft, but were much more, as well, forming not merely a physical bond, but an emotional one as well, one of understanding, compassion and devotion.  
  
For those few seconds, I felt as if I hadn't ever found the mirror, as if I hadn't discovered the fate of my parents, as if I hadn't found out that I was Harry's brother. I felt as if everything was as it should be and that for the first time in a while, that I loved someone who truly loved me in return.  
  
Just before slipping into a peaceful slumber, I heard the door creak and then shut. 


	8. Chapter 6: Chasing

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
  
  
The stadium was filled to capacity, and then some. People lined the back of the bleachers, standing up, not wanting to miss any of the action even if it meant not having a place to sit. Even those who had seats were cramped, forced to occupy a spot smaller than what they were used to. These peeves aside, excitement ran through the air like electricity.  
  
All of the visitors had come prepared, bundled up to the hilt. Scarves displaying house colors adorned the neck of every attending student. Pennants cheering on either Slytherin or Gryffindor could be seen, gripped tightly by mittened hands. Boots and galoshes stomped on the bleacher's floorboards, the sign of a fans attempt to stay warm.  
  
The chilly morning was characteristic of mid-October days. I could see my breath every time my body exhaled. The frost that had covered the ground earlier in the morning had melted, leaving soft, green grass to cover the field below. The lines had been freshly repainted and the goals were standing tall, keeping watch over the proceedings.  
  
We had been up in the air for only a minute or so. Slytherin was running some last-minute practice, although the plays they were presenting to us wouldn't probably be used. Their purpose was to merely confuse us and throw our defensive game off. Therefore, flying high above the action, and out of their way, I chose to watch the stands rather than the trickery below.  
  
I looked to a Gryffindor bleacher, and saw a field of maroon and gold. The stands were packed and our sections were no different. However, out of the madness, I managed to pick out the faces of Ron and Hermione. Shifting over closer to where they sat, I flew by slowly. The pair spotted me, and waved heartily; quickly, I returned the salute and took off. Sticking close to the sides, I began to circle the inside of the stadium, trying to catch glimpses of faces I knew. I could see Neville below spilling something onto his jacket. Jacob Miller, the new announcer, was manipulating the score-keeping device, most likely clearing the score from the previous game.  
  
Coming into the match, both of our teams were perfect, winning two and losing none. This game, although still early in the season, would definitely affect how the rest of the year would proceed. If we managed to win, the heat would be on Slytherin to play catch-up, and if we lost, we would be the ones feeling the pressure. Not wanting the latter to occur, our team had practice daily for the past six afternoons, running over plays and methods of the sorts. I had missed one, but I needed sleep more than anything, a fact Alicia understood.  
  
The crowd prepared and the teams ready, the chest containing the balls was lugged out to center field. Dropped in the circle, the latch was soon undone. My heart racing, the quaffle was tossed up and the beaters released. Game on.  
  
With paddle held firmly in hand, I looked towards my fellow beater and pointed out the beater closest to him. Melton spotted it and immediately tailed it, making sure it stayed out of our teams' way. Taking the other, I followed it as the ball zoomed across the stadium. As soon as I took off, I heard a raucous cheer erupt from the Gryffindor section just to the right of me.  
  
'Had the snitch been caught already?'  
  
Careful not to lose tract of my bludger, I looked up and saw Harry in his usual spot, hovering over the other players, Malfoy not too far from him. This left my puzzled.  
  
'Could the crowd have been cheering for me?'  
  
Rather than mull over the matter, I pushed the idea to the back of my mind and turned to the task at hand.  
  
I streaked through the cool air; it rushed over the tips of my ears, causing them to sting a bit. Already, perspiration was forming on my brow and adrenaline was pulsing through my veins. Prepared, I smacked the bludger towards one of the Slytherin beaters. Since it was still early in the game, I made sure it missed him by a mile, but he still sneered at me.  
  
"Watch out, Adam; Slytherin isn't a huge fan of you," Harry had told me before the game. Although he was still as friendly as ever around me, I had become much more stand-offish. Since discovering my link to him, I hadn't been able to act the same when he was near. Thankfully, the feeling I once had around him was gone, perhaps the only good to some of my current state of affairs.  
  
Still, even with our relationship strained due to the new connection, one he had yet to know about, I knew it was my duty, both as a brother and a beater, to protect him; that was something I would never forget or ignore.  
  
The crowd erupted again. One of our chasers had managed to slip the quaffle through the center hoop for the first score of the game. With the balls still in motion, there was little time to celebrate. Back in action, the three chasers flew over my head, after their ball.  
  
My bludger had returned, falling within my sights. As soon as I took off after it, much to my chagrin, it sped up, rocketing up into the air. Narrowly missing a Slytherin chaser, I followed it closely. Seeing that it was headed for Harry, I gave it a smack while I could. It careened back towards the earth.  
  
Harry spotted me and showed his appreciation with a smile. Not knowing how to respond, I nodded knowingly and took off after the bludger again.  
  
The game continued smoothly. Although we had managed to score seven more times, Slytherin had matched that mark, leaving us tied with still no sign of the Snitch. Watching over the field vigilantly, Harry remained at his post, waiting for the right moment.  
  
The bludger I was chasing began to follow James, one of our chasers as he followed the quaffle. Coming in on it from the right, I reached back slightly, prepared to wallop the ball off of its course. However, mid-way into my swing, I was hit hard on the left side off my body.  
  
I hadn't even seen him approach. One of the Slytherin beaters had rammed into me, knocking me further from the bludger. Without time to catch up, I shouted to James.  
  
"Watch out! Bludger!"  
  
Without even looking over his shoulder, he banked hard to the right, out of the ball's path. Breathing a sign of relief, I turned to see the Slytherin beater laughing loudly, mocking my folly. Furious, I gripped my broom, and took off after the bludger, mentally prepared for the animosity that was sure to occupy the final few minutes of the match.  
  
Tightening my grip on the paddle, I peeked over my shoulder to see the same beater, riding my tail. Determined to return the favor, I got closer to the bludger. Rather than hitting it on the side, though, I swung downwards and hit it hard on the front, sending it hurtling backwards. Looking back once more, I could see the beater nearly fall off his broom as he hurried to get out bludger's way. My turn to laugh, I did so noticeably, making sure that he heard me. His eyes shot daggers at me, to which I responded to by blowing a kiss.  
  
Too busy mocking, I wasn't able to see 'it'.  
  
Just as I was turning my head back around, I felt something solid smash into my side.  
  
"GOD..DAMN IT!" I shouted. Not able to keep my balance, I started to fall off my broom. Realizing my current situation, and what could result if I fell to the ground, I reached up with my left arm, snatching my broom just in time. However, such heroics sent searing pain throughout my body. I cried out again, this time in unintelligible babble.  
  
The Gryffindor bleacher that I was closest too became hushed. Tears formed in my eyes from the amount of pain I was feeling, and all I could do was dangle there in mid-air, unable to help my teammates.  
  
Searching for any sign of hope, I looked into the stands and saw Hermione. Her gloved hands covered her mouth, still in shock from what had just happened. Even though we were too far away to speak, I could see her watching me intently.  
  
"You can do it, Adam," she mouthed. For all I know, she could have been screaming it, but it mattered little; I knew what she was saying loud and clear.  
  
"You can do it," she repeated.  
  
Understanding her words, I nodded in return.  
  
Building up all the strength I could muster, I grabbed the stick with my other hand, and started the task of remounting my broom. Any movement I made was painful, but, gritting my teeth, I hoisted myself up. Lifting up my right leg, I saddled the broom. Resting on my faithful companion, I could hear cheers erupt again. The score hadn't changed and Harry was still on the prowl. Turning towards the bleachers, I could see a banner unfurled in the Gryffindor bleachers.  
  
"ADAM! BEAT THEM BACK!' it read in bright red letters.  
  
Holding onto one end of it was Hermione. Perhaps six or seven others were taking on the task of keeping it up, and I even saw two more signs with my name on them, mingling with the signs cheering Harry on. Inspired, I swallowed hard and flew off, trying to spot the bludger I had lost track of.  
  
Gently, as I flew, I tried to massage the area struck by the ball. Breathing was becoming an ordeal in itself, and the left side of my rib cage was on fire. Not wanting to thing of how disfigured my chest must be, I pictured the House Cup. If we managed to pull though, and not give up, it would be ours. We had the talent; all we needed was the bravery to survive this sinister team.  
  
However, the more I flew, the more apparent it became that I was in serious need of medical help. Without the ability to breathe normally, I was beginning to feel light-headed.  
  
'Great, that's all I need right now: a collapsed lung.'  
  
The seconds became minutes and the minutes seemed to turn into days. Every movement seemed to slow down and become blurry. Closing my eyes, I shook my head, trying to clear my thinking and hold onto consciousness.  
  
'Come on, Harry. Find the damn thing!'  
  
Then, I saw it. Crossing my path, I saw the Golden Snitch and my heart leapt.  
  
"This ends now," I managed to whisper to myself with some effort. Determined, I scanned the field and spotted the bludger. Bat held high, I chased it down. Just ahead, I could see Malfoy and Harry in hot pursuit of the Snitch. Each trying to out gun the other, they looked to be nothing but streaks, trying to get their hands on a bit of 'gold.'  
  
Using a tactic we practiced two days ago, rather than smashing the bludger, I tapped it, sending it along in the direction I was going. Still following it, I tapped it again, keeping it in check and making it obey my command.  
  
My side still aching as never before, I got closer and closer to the two seekers, nudging along my bludger. The chase continued and my presence was still unknown by the two still in hot pursuit of the Snitch. The air was so thick with cheers and jeers that I seemed to be beating them back, and not the bludger. Knowing that thousands of eyes were focused on the current chase, I broke out in a heavy sweat. Making sure I still held the bat, I gave clutched the handle harder.  
  
I continued to push the bludger along, making sure I didn't hit it too hard; such a mistake would give the object back its freedom and it would escape my reach.  
  
The Snitch began to ascend, increasing in altitude, almost as if it was climbing a mountain. Both seekers seemed to speed up after the shift in direction, and I followed their lead, pushing my flying abilities to the limit.  
  
Almost, almost..  
  
With outstretched arms, Malfoy and Harry reached for the Golden Snitch, their fingertips just inches short of the goal.  
  
I still bided by time, waiting. Nearly even with them, I moved up along side Malfoy. On his face, he wore a strained expression of anger. His teeth clenched together, I could hear him let off a grunt, the Snitch perhaps an inch out of his reach.  
  
Decided that now was the time, I gave the bludger an extra tap. While pulling back my arm, Malfoy caught sight of my movement and turned to look at me.  
  
Time froze. The stadium was empty except for me and Mister Draco. Nothing else mattered; the snitch placed a far second to what lied at stake here: pride. As we flew side by side, we were equals, but now was the moment where the victor would be decided, leaving no spot for the loser to hide in shame.  
  
His eyes said it all. I could see fear taking hold of them and his mind as well.  
  
Defeat was eminent. He knew it all too well.  
  
Without looking away, I gave the bludger a smack and sent it careening in his direction. Malfoy followed the ball, watching it with almost a sense of wonder and amazement. Right on target, the ball crashed into his broom, breaking off a generous portion of the tip. The shattered broom shed millions of splinters, filling the air with miniature clones of itself. No longer in the running, any power he had was gone and Malfoy suddenly lagged behind drastically, soon disappearing behind us, bobbing in our wake.  
  
Flying beside Harry, I watched as he closed he gap between the Snitch and himself. Stretching his right arm out as far as he could, he touched it and that was all it took. His hand ripped the Snitch out of the air, ending the chase and the game as well.  
  
The entire arena sent up squeals of delight and choruses of heckling. Flags bearing the colors of Gryffindor were waved madly in many of the stands; we could almost see the smiles and grins of pleasure which had erupted on their faces.  
  
Still on our brooms, I saw Harry offer me a hand. After studying him for a motive, I accepted it, giving him my right one, careful not to disturb my damaged left side.  
  
Throwing our linked arms up into the air, we were rewarded with even louder cheers from our classmates. Reveling in it, I smiled, forgetting the agony that occupied my torso at the moment.  
  
"Gryffindor wins it, 230 to 80," Jacob shouted into his microphone. Even though the scorer is technically unbiased, I could pick up the hint of glee in his voice and I'm sure everyone else in the stadium did as well.  
  
"Now," Harry said after allowing our arms to lower, "let's get you to the nurse."  
  
Taking our time, we both began our descents.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Three massive pillows propped me up in the hospital bed. To my right and left, were cards and flowers sending me congratulations on the victory and wishing that I get well soon. They covered both bed stands and some had to be placed on the floor to make room for a pitcher of water and clean towels.  
  
The nurses' wing was pleasant enough for a hospital. Windows ran all along the hall, and I could see how blue the sky was through each and every one of them. Though it was fall, the sun still managed to cast its warming rays upon my face. The whole room was lit up, surrounding everything a heavenly glow.  
  
The only downside was that I couldn't move my midsection. A massive wrap kept my torso rigid as a board, preventing me form bending over. Luckily, my arms and legs remained functional, giving me some mobility.  
  
"Adam!"  
  
I saw the Harry, Ron and Hermione come running in. They were soon at my bedside, standing over me as if they were the doctors.  
  
"How're the ribs doin', chap?" Ron asked me, grinning inanely.  
  
"Fine, fine, ship shape," I responded just as sarcastically.  
  
"That was some of the most amazing Quidditch I have ever seen!" Hermione beamed.  
  
"Seems that everyone else agrees," Harry said, producing a folded document from his robe. Opening it up, he cleared his throat and began to read:  
  
"DUO SNAGS WIN IN HIGH-STAKES GAME"  
  
"You're kidding!" Ron exclaimed, leaning in to get a look at the paper.  
  
"Yup; front page of the Daily Prophet," Harry said, handing the newspaper to me.  
  
"'Since the arrival of the mysterious Hogwarts' student Adam Barrowton, he and the infamous Harry Potter have been an unstoppable duo, proof of which showed in yesterday's game against Slytherin House. This editor believes that if they continue to produce these results, we might be looking at two future member of the professional Quidditch League.'"  
  
"Wow," was all I could say.  
  
"You deserve every bit of praise." Harry admitted. "You went above and beyond the call of a beater and managed to help pull off one massive upset."  
  
"Thanks, Harry. Thanks means a lot coming from the star Seeker himself," I said, causing him to blush slightly.  
  
"We should be going," Ron said, checking his watch. "We all have Potions class. Don't worry, though, Adam; we'll come se you as soon as we're out."  
  
"Don't worry. I'll still be here."  
  
"No kidding," Harry chuckled.  
  
He and Ron turned to leave, taking off in a hurry, but Hermione remained at my side.  
  
"I'm very proud of you," she said softly. Taking hold of my hand, she gave it a comforting squeeze, much like before.  
  
"I only wish I could hug you," she admitted, looking at the wads of bandages what encircled my chest and stomach. At her comment, I looked at them and then her face, only able to shrug at my plight. She laughed, as did I.  
  
"Well, get better. I miss having you around." With that, she cupped my face gently with her hand and leaned in, giving me a kiss.  
  
"I'll try," I whispered in return, giving her another peck on the lips.  
  
"Good; you better," she ordered, standing back up. "I'll come by after class."  
  
"Okay, thanks."  
  
"Bye," she said over her shoulder, as she ran out of the nurses' wing and off to class.  
  
Alone, I looked down at the swaddling which was my midsection, wondering.  
  
"Could I get this thing signed?" I asked myself out loud. 


	9. Chapter 7: Mistakes

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter 7  
  
  
  
  
  
Staggering slightly, careful to take it easy for the sake of my left side, I made my way back to Gryffindor Tower, leaving the nurses' wing behind me. The swaddling had been taken off, since there was only so much one could do to help repair broken ribs. Such a cast didn't exist, leaving only rest and relaxation as forms of remedy.  
  
It was early in the morning. I had been up most of the night, reading over some of the class material I had missed. Napping during most of the day, I decided to simply stay up and have the rare chance to bid the day a 'good morning.'  
  
My watch read '5:12', a time when little happened, either here or in any place of the world. I was wearing my pajamas since it was the only article of clothing that Ron had brought me. Although it may have been the best choice for a hospital stay, it offered little protection against the chilliness of the halls. Shivering slightly, I neared the portal.  
  
"Incognito," I murmured.  
  
The Fat Lady smiled at me, waking up from her slumber.  
  
"Good to see you back, Adam," she quipped. "On the mend already?"  
  
"For the most part," I responded, slipping through entry as she moved aside.  
  
The fire was dying, but flames appeared every once in a while. One of the logs on the grate broke in half, sending sparks and ash flying about, most of which was contained in the fireplace. As I neared it, ready to throw a long on, I noticed someone sleeping on the couch.  
  
Hermione laid there, her hands clasped together, a replacement for a pillow. I could hear her soft exhales, coming at regular intervals. In her sleepwear, I wondered why she was down here and not in bed.  
  
Upon further inspection, I found a stack of books just under the couch, resting on the floor. Perhaps six textbooks formed a substantial tower. Ranging from "Astronomy: Mapping the Heavens" to "Spelling out Spells," I could see that she had been studying all night as well.  
  
Smiling slightly, I grabbed a throw that was hanging over the back of the sofa and unrolled it. Laying it along the length of her, she stirred slightly, but didn't speak, preferring to slip back into her snooze. I knelt down beside her, and ran my fingers through her hair, being sure not to wake the sleeping beauty.  
  
Casting my eyes down to the books at my feet, I picked up the first, examining the spine. "Creatures of the Dark," it read.  
  
'Hmmm.interesting choice for nighttime reading,' I thought.  
  
The next book I picked up didn't hold any similarities to the others. It was thinner and floppy, a paperback in a sea of hard covered volumes. On the front, there was a single word: 'JOURNAL'  
  
I held it in my hand for a while, wondering what to do.  
  
'This is her private property,' I told myself. 'I can't invade it.'  
  
Still, something inside me ached to see what kind of thoughts filled her mind, the feelings and thoughts that made her the magnificent person she was. However, knowing how much she trusted me, I held myself back form opening it. I simply remained knelt by her side, diary resting in my palm, waiting for a decision.  
  
She shifted slightly, startling me. The journal slipped from my hand, landing on the floor with a soft 'thud'. As if destiny guided its pages, the book opened up to a certain page.  
  
I couldn't take it anymore. Giving into my urges, I began to read what she had written on the cream-colored paper.  
  
"Adam is really sweet; school's been a lot more exciting with him here, which is good, most of the time (wink)," she wrote in flowing cursive. I smiled at the comment, ecstatic over her feelings for me. The page was dated October, 15th.  
  
'Last night.'  
  
"He's the 'Ron' I've been waiting for."  
  
My heart sank.  
  
'Ron? What has he got to do with us?'  
  
"I don't want to hurt him, but he has to know eventually. The longer I wait."  
  
And then it stopped. The entry ended with the half-sentence and nothing else.  
  
My mood had gone from joyful to confused within a few moments.  
  
'What have I become involved in?' I asked myself, trying to clear this matter up on my own.  
  
If Ron had like Hermione, why hadn't I noticed? He glanced at her occasionally, but never in the way I did, did he? Was I so concerned with making her my own, that I didn't take the time to consider the possibility that someone else valued her as much as I did?  
  
Had I turned my back on a friend?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
October slipped by quickly and November did likewise. The trees which surrounded the school were now barren, revealing the empty nests once hidden inside of them, now exposed to the world outside. Snow covered the ground by the end of November, and lined the window sills, giving everything a soft, heavenly radiance.  
  
Hermione and I still hung out, but nothing much came of it; not that I didn't want anything more to come of the relationship, but I also wasn't in a hurry. With the issue of Ron now on my mind, it was difficult to think of her being my girl. If someone waltzed into my life, and started dating an interest of mine, I would take offense at it. And yet, how long had Ron been pining for her without making a move? How long did I have to wait?  
  
The fighting had continued, becoming even more frequent. Friends were now enemies and those who weren't enemies became suspicious, a move which often ended the relationship. Even though many relationships still remained intact, everyone suspected that it was only a matter of time until Hogwarts' became one big tavern brawl.  
  
Dumbledore roamed the halls more often, and it seemed that his presence would cause all fighting to cease, another point which led Ron, Hermione, Harry and I to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was behind all this. However, nothing showed up in the way of proof and for some odd reason, Slytherin wasn't turning up anything either. As odd as this may sound, we were a tad disappointed; they could usually look to them to be the perpetrators, but this time, they were suffering equally.  
  
However, the real matter bugging me was the issue with Ron, perhaps to too much of an extent. I didn't even hear my name.  
  
"Mister Barrowton," I turned around. Dumbledore stood there, staring down at me through his spectacles.  
  
"Yes, headmaster," I said, not knowing exactly how to address him.  
  
"I hope you are finding out why you are here."  
  
"I'm trying." I stammered, attempting to respond as honestly as I could.  
  
"Your grades are exceptional, and you are an excellent athlete," he said. His comment made my mind race wondering when the hurricane was going to hit.  
  
"Thanks. I try." I repeated, absentmindedly.  
  
"The real question is what are you doing all this for?" He began to approach me, slowly, still looking down the length of his nose at me.  
  
"I.I'm not sure I understand."  
  
"Many come here to become wizards, some to fulfill a family tradition, some to make friends." he explained. I wondered where he planned to go with this, so I merely stood there, nodding.  
  
"You came for none of these reasons. So, why?"  
  
I paused, trying to pinpoint an answer to the question, but I was at a loss of words.  
  
"I'm not sure. I.I guess I'm still waiting to figure that out," I admitted, feeling quite defeated.  
  
"Not to worry; just be on the lookout for when that reason decides to show up. Often times, it is a lesson that comes to us at our weakest moment." With that, he nodded softly and walked off, leaving me with my mouth slightly open, still trying to compose a sufficient response.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Listen, Ron, I got to talk to you," I began, pulling up a chair in the library, sitting just across from him at one of the tables. After waving to get my attention, he dove back into the book he was reading, leaving me to talk to a cover.  
  
"About what?" he asked, still not looking up.  
  
I didn't have his full attention yet, and therefore, avoided giving my response quite yet.  
  
"So.." I said, looking around trying to get an idea of what to talk about in the meantime, "you studying for the final exams coming up?"  
  
"Yeah. It is hours of endless fun," he said, laughing like a madman. I laughed as well, knowing the amount of studying that I had put off, studying that would eventually force itself upon me within a few days.  
  
"What can I help you with, Adam?" he asked, still perched behind a massive text. Boldly, I put a hand on top of the tome and pushed it down towards the table, allowing our eyes to meet.  
  
"Um.I was going to ask you something?" I paused again, trying to choose my words carefully.  
  
"Yeah." he said, prodding me along with his eyes.  
  
"Were you.um." I stumbled, "thinking of asking Hermione to the Yule Ball?"  
  
"Good question." He rested an elbow on the table and began to massage to non-existent whiskers that covered his chin. "I haven't really given any thought to it, but I suppose I'll give it a try."  
  
I pursed my lips together, and nodded knowingly. He got the message.  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well.Ron I need you to be completely honest.about.."  
  
I stopped again. I couldn't get it out. My heart ached, and not in a pleasant way, like it did around Hermione. It was a sickening pain which seared my soul. Here I was coming between a friend and the girl he cared about, one I cared deeply for as well. It was the toughest position I had ever been in, and when the moment came, I couldn't say it.  
  
'Would it be better not to speak?'  
  
'Would silence be an act of letting my feelings for Hermione go, or being a friend?'  
  
'Would it be possible to have both?'  
  
".about." I tried again. Ron was now looking at me with a face a sheer boredom and impatience. Finally, giving up on me, he stood up, putting his outer cloak on.  
  
"Look, Adam, you're a good man, but I can't talk to you like this; it's like you had a stroke or something." He smiled, pleased at his own wit and walked off with a casual wave of his hand.  
  
Standing up, watching him walk off, I knew what I had to say, now.  
  
"Ron, I'm falling for Hermione."  
  
Instantaneously, he stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders slumped slightly, as if he was feeling the full weight of such a comment of his fragile structure. He turned around slowly, the rest of his body following the lead of his head.  
  
His face.I'll never forget his face. It's the look you have when you've really lost something, something that mattered more to you than anything, something no one could possibly value as much. It's a look you wear when you're hurt more than you know, and even if you did understand how deep of a wound you possessed, you wouldn't know how to mend it.  
  
'What have I done?'  
  
"You what?" he said, his tone fluctuating as he spoke. Even though he was far from yelling, his voice carried such emotion that everyone on the library had turned to him.  
  
"I.I have feelings for Hermione," I said, looking at the ground as I spoke, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Sheepishly, I played with my hands, not knowing what else to do in such a situation. My mouth was dry and my face was red with embarrassment.  
  
"Well, you're not the only one." His voice all of a sudden grew very husky, almost bringing out a new side of Ron. I grew nervous, realizing that the friendship I had cherished was now gone, almost as if it hadn't existed in the first place. An insurmountable wall now severed that link, leaving me alone on the other side.  
  
"Ron, I'm sorry.I'm.s-.." I stopped again. Ron's lower lip began to quiver, but he bit it hard, hiding its movement from the curious eyes which surrounded him.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he replied, breathlessly, nodding rapidly. That said, he turned and left the library, throwing a sideways glance at me before the door closed behind him.  
  
Standing there, I exhaled and ran me hand across my damp brow. Noticing all the attention that now was focused on me, I felt it was time to make my exit as well.  
  
"Well, that went well," I remarked somberly. My head down, I slipped out the door, conspicuously.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You look amazing," I whispered into Hermione's ear as we strolled down the corridor, on our way to the Great Hall. She was wearing a flowing maroon dress, which hugged closely enough to show off her feminine features, while being modest at the same time. Her hair had been straightened except for at the end, where it was curled upwards a bit.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered back blushing slightly. "You don't look so bad yourself."  
  
I had spent most of my money down at Diagon buying a new robe for the formal occasion. It was fine hand-sewn wool and I managed to have the Gryffindor crest sewn onto it. A gold cord tied it off around my waist, and I wore a new set of dress shoes, skinned to perfection by Hagrid out of courtesy.  
  
Entering the hall, we were taken aback by how lit up the room was. More candles had been added and yet, snow managed to fall from the ceiling, giving everything a true feeling of winter; this made sense since it was Christmas.  
  
Numerous trees adorned the hall, most of them standing against the wall at various points, with the exception of one, which stood at the middle of the room. Adorned with glinting spheres and golden tinsel, it shined in the light; its boughs were white, collecting snow which had fallen over the past hour.  
  
The most striking feature about the whole event was how many people were packed into the room. It seemed as if every one in the fourth year and up was attending the ball. Decked out in their best, I could see that this was the place to be tonight.  
  
"Mister Barrowton, Miss Granger," McGonagall greeted us by the door.  
  
"Hello," Hermione replied, beaming.  
  
"How are you this evening?" I asked her.  
  
"I am well, thank you, hoping that none of the trouble that has become so regular here makes its way through the door."  
  
"Agreed," I replied, leaving the matter at that.  
  
Walking into the crowd, we made our way over to the refreshment table. Jostled about, I saw the faces which had looked up at me during Quidditch games. Now, I was seeing them face to face. Giving out apologies, the reply was always 'that was some shot' or 'Draco avoiding you?' Rather than take the time to fight back the bombardment, I simply let them fly over my head and continued onto the punch bowl.  
  
"It's good to see you two here," I heard Ron say. Standing on the other side of the table, his arms folded, a drink in one hand, he looked very refined. With one eyebrow raised, he bade us a good evening by shaking his cup. My stomach tightened.  
  
'This could go very wrong very quickly.'  
  
"How are you this evening, Ron?" I asked, peaceably. I acted busy, reaching for a few glasses.  
  
"Oh, I'm fine, just watching over the punch bowl, making sure no one dirties something so pure and pristine." Piecing out the last few words for emphasis, I picked up on the meaning wrapped within his words.  
  
"Ron, I thought you had a date," Hermione said innocently. "You said you wouldn't come without one. Now I feel awful," she confessed, clearly fraught over the matter.  
  
"Well, it was just a matter of Adam asking you before I could," Ron concluded, taking a sip of his drink.  
  
"You never even asked me, Ron." Hermione's voice was painted with sympathy; she knew something was awry, but didn't know quite what it was.  
  
"Man, is it warm in here or is it just me?" I asked, tugging at my shirt collar.  
  
"It's just you," Ron replied snidely.  
  
Moments passed without a word being said. We stood by the table, waiting for someone, something, anything to happen. While couples danced, held in the embrace of another, the three of us stood over the punch, trying to predict what the other would do next and plan a way to keep it form being said.  
  
"Care to dance?" I asked.  
  
"Yes, I would." Hermione accepted the elbow I offered.  
  
'Perhaps this will work.'  
  
"Ron, could I save a dance for you?" she asked him, almost pleading.  
  
"No, I'll be good."  
  
"Please, Ron, I would really."  
  
"I said I'm fine," he replied, brusquely, his mouth full of cookie.  
  
"Well, I'll see you soon," was Hermione's only response. She seemed hurt, frowning as we left Ron behind, disappearing into the mob of waltzers. Taking her hand in mine, I wrapped by other arm around her waist and began to fall in line with the music. A soft piece by Chopin, we shifted easily around the floor, careful to avoid the footsteps of others.  
  
Her chin resting lovingly on my shoulder, she began to speak.  
  
"I wonder what is wrong with Ron?"  
  
"Probably just frustrated that he couldn't get a date as amazing as you," I replied smoothly. Although I may have appeared to be cool and calm on the outside, I was quite the reverse internally. My conscience was eating at way at me, letting me know loud and clear that I should not be the one cradling Hermione in my arms.  
  
'I'm a horrible friend.'  
  
"Adam, are you okay?" I had grown tense over the thoughts and she must have noticed.  
  
"Oh, I'm fine," I replied, trying to relax my uptight muscles.  
  
However, the remarkable girl she was, all my attempts were to no avail.  
  
"Something is bothering you," she said, as if I didn't need to confirm her assumption.  
  
"I think Ron wanted to go with you." My words were jagged sounding, almost like I was physically chocking on the syllables.  
  
"I know he wanted to. That's why I'm wondering why he didn't even try."  
  
I didn't answer her remark, even though I knew why he didn't.  
  
'Did she need to know?'  
  
The question wasn't whether or not she needed to know, but whether or not I was man enough to tell her. Enough attention had been paid to me over the past few months; I preferred to discuss the matter outside. Leading her by the hand, without a word, she followed me to the edge of the crowd and out a set of doors which had been opened to aid in the circulation of the air inside.  
  
The snow fell lightly outside as well, and the night took on an angelic glow, reflecting the light of the moon, scattering its rays all about. The flowers which once silhouetted the school were long gone, but the holly and evergreens now took center stage and harbored ice crystals, making them sparkle.  
  
"Adam, what's wrong?" Hermione asked me as we stood on the steps leading down to a whitened field.  
  
"I have to tell you something."  
  
She gave no response whatsoever, but merely waited for me to speak.  
  
"I know why Ron didn't ask you."  
  
"How come?" she inquired.  
  
I sighed, knowing what this would most likely do to the rest of the night. However, any sour grapes I reaped would only be from my planting them.  
  
"I told him I had feelings for you," I said, half looking at her, half staring off into the distance.  
  
"And." Her eyes were wide with anxiousness.  
  
"He got really mad and hasn't spoken to me since." I reached back and scratched a part on my neck which itched; anything was preferable to standing and doing nothing.  
  
"That's why he's been avoiding me. Adam, why did you have to go and do that?" Her demeanor had changed abruptly, shifting from demure to livid within a span of a few minutes.  
  
"Because I found out that he liked you and.and I wanted to take you to the Yule Ball." I said the last bit in a pleading manner, hoping that she would look at the positive side of the issue. Clearly, she didn't.  
  
"Wait a second.how did you find out that he liked me?"  
  
"Now, you're gonna be really mad. When you were sleeping on the couch a few weeks ago, your journal was there."  
  
Horrified, she stepped back from me, clutching her chest involuntarily.  
  
"I didn't mean to read it. It slipped out of my hand and when it hit the floor, I."  
  
"I've heard enough, Adam!" Tears began collecting in her eyes, tears of anger and frustration.  
  
"How could you do this to me?!? You're not a man; you're just a.a..I'm so mad I can't even think of an insult!" She held her head in her hands, overcome with ire. I just stood there, my mind replaying all of the awful things I had done. Over and over, I saw the steps I shouldn't have taken, ones that should have been avoided at all costs, steps I took nonetheless out of selfishness.  
  
"Hermione."  
  
"Don't talk to me, Adam! I was wrong about you! I was." Not even bothering to finish her thought, she spun around and took off, walking back inside. I remained alone, with only the snowflakes to dance with.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Mister Barrowton," I muttered, disgusted with myself. 


	10. Chapter 8: Pallor

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter 8  
  
  
  
  
  
I paced back and forth in front of the fire, back and forth. The fire blazed, heating the entire room and causing me to break out into a sweat. My shadow danced along the walls, almost a perfect expression of my dismal situation and how little light there currently was within my soul. My feet still felt cold as I walked on the stone, causing a strange clash between thermal forces.  
  
Harry sat in the armchair, watching my futile attempt to wear a track into the floor. His eyes followed me for a while, but had probably had given up after a few minutes. He knew I had something to say, but decided to wait until I was ready.  
  
Paused, I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I simply stood, my elbow resting on the mantle, giving me much needed support. I tried again.  
  
"Harry, I've lost a lot in the past few days."  
  
He cleared his throat, once more focusing on me.  
  
"I know, Adam," he replied, with a hoarse voice.  
  
He slumped in the chair slightly, letting the friction between his clothes and the fabric on the chair hold him up, rather than his own will. Harry looked at me with caring eyes, trying to understand what I was feeling at the moment.  
  
"God," I began, pounding the stone with my fist, "I cannot believe how big of an ass I am. How could everything that.that was going so well.go so wrong?"  
  
"I don't know. They were just the right things to do at the wrong time," he answered vaguely.  
  
"I guess I should have warned you about Hermione and Ron."  
  
"It would have helped." I didn't blame him, but I also wished that he would have taken the initiative to inform me. I was new to his world; he should have given me a tour.  
  
"Do you truly care for her?" he quipped, staring into the flames.  
  
I thought for a moment, peering into the flickering light as well, searching for an answer within the unforgiving inferno.  
  
"Yes. I do."  
  
Harry mulled over my reply, clasping his hands together and resting a chin on them.  
  
"Then you did nothing wrong."  
  
I nodded, appreciating his conclusion.  
  
"Expect for the journal thing."  
  
"Yeah, that wasn't the best move possible," I agreed.  
  
We remained silent for a few moments.  
  
"I really didn't like doing that to Ron."  
  
"I know, Adam. I don't like it either. He's pretty bummed, and I don't like to see my friends down. But, when it deals with matters of the heart, I'm not the best one to judge," he said, smiling weakly.  
  
"Will he ever talk to me again?" Ron and Hermione hadn't spoken to me for months. I was depressed over the whole matter. Everyday, I would pass by them in the halls and sit next to them in class, but it was as if they weren't even there. No eye contact, no spoken words, no gestures; I was exiled, forever forbade from setting foot in my home. Once more, I was an outsider, but one who was thrown out, with little hope of ever getting back to where I came from. Harry was my only close friend I had. However, as I knew, there was much more than friendship between us.  
  
"And Hermione?" I asked, open-endedly.  
  
"She.she's really torn over it all, Adam. She cares for you, but she also cares for Ron. Not in quite the same way, but they have been through a lot, and for you to do that to Ron.well." He let the words drop off, deciding to rub the palms of his hands together rather than speak further.  
  
"Harry, I'm so lost."  
  
"Stick with it, Adam." He stood up and strolled over to the base of the stairs which led up to the boys' dorms.  
  
"Why do you still stand by me?" I asked him as he walked away.  
  
He stopped and turned, facing me.  
  
"For the same reason you do: we're all brothers. We have to stick up for each other, through thick and thin." With that, he turned back to the stairs and began to ascend them, one by one.  
  
"You don't know how true that is." My words groped through the dark, and managed to find him. I couldn't see him any longer, but I heard his footsteps pause perhaps halfway up the staircase. I could almost hear him listening to me, intently.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" he called out, almost growling as he spoke.  
  
"Ever get a feeling that it's your job to watch over someone else?" I asked.  
  
As if in response, he came back down the stairs and I soon saw him. He approached me slowly, deciding to sit down in a chair which faced me. I remained standing, trying to gather myself for the blow that was about to come.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" In his eyes, I could see how frightened he was, almost as if someone had thrown a fork into his journey and he now had to choose which way to go. Either direction would decide how the rest of his life would proceed. However, this decision was out of his hands, something he wasn't used to.  
  
"Harry, I have lost everyone here that means anything to me. With what I'm about to say, I think I might lose you too." It pained me to do this, but I figured that if I didn't have honestly going for me, what did I have? Maybe this would make the two of us closer; maybe it would push us apart.  
  
Honesty didn't appear to enjoy my company lately.  
  
"What is it?" He was growing impatient; his voice sounded slightly irritated, not enjoying that fact that he wasn't commanding the situation, over something he knew would affect him forever. It only needed to be said.  
  
"Harry, I think I'm your brother."  
  
I could almost see the words sink it. For a moment, he sat, expressionless, but slowly, he reacted. Confusion ran amuck with his facial features. Looking up at me, he appeared to be halfway between shouting and crying. Not knowing what to make of it, I simply stood, and waited.  
  
"You're what?"  
  
"I think I'm your older brother. I saw what looked to be my parents in the Mirror of Erised. The parents I saw matched the picture of your parents. Plus, when I saw them, I was born but mom was pregnant. In your picture, it's just you." My attempts to rationalize the matter were useless; this wasn't a topic that could be fixed with numbers or equations; it was something that dealt solely with the heart.  
  
"I'm.I.geez." he said, clutching his chest. Droplets of perspiration became visible on the back of his hands, gleaming in the light cast out of the fireplace.  
  
"I thought I should tell you. It's been eating it me."  
  
Harry didn't reply. Head hanging low, he sat, trying to catch his breath, shifting his gaze from side to side, almost like a madman.  
  
"Harry." I pleaded, trying to get his attention.  
  
He mumbled something, undetectable.  
  
"Say something."  
  
Abruptly, he snapped his head up and stared at me. His gaze wasn't unkind, but not warm either. His demeanor frightened me a tad, and I took a step back.  
  
"You're my brother?" he asked, his voice faltering. Tears began to well up in his eyes and his voice became chocked with emotion.  
  
I stood still, trying to gauge his reaction. Moving as little as possible, I nodded slightly, not breaking the line of sight between us.  
  
"Wow." Running a hand through his dark, untidy hair, I saw the lighting bolt scar which graced his forehead. Teardrops ran down his rosy cheeks, forming tiny rivulets. He cleared his throat again, speechless.  
  
"I don't know how it happened. I don't think I was there for the.the." I stopped as well, becoming wrapped up with emotion. All I could do to make my argument was to point at the mark he bore. Starring up, he understood my message and began to gaze at his lap again.  
  
"They must have sent me off, sensing what was.to come. I don't know too much, like always."  
  
"Yeah.yeah." he replied. Unable to take in all the new information, his shoulders shook. Without any further ado, he stood up and walked off to the stairs. Not bothering to look back, he merely shook his as he placed one foot on the bottom stair.  
  
It was all over.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ah, Adam; you're in quite a spot," Hagrid admitted, setting a cup of tea in front of me on the small wooden table. Fang slept in the chair behind me, growling softly as he dreamt.  
  
"Yeah, to put it mildly." I put a tablespoon of honey in the cup and stirred continuously, not able to do anything else with my hands.  
  
"Here's the way I see it. You were honest; above all, you were truthful to those around you. It just so happened that they didn't want to hear it." He took a swig from the massive mug that he gripped in his fingers. Sighing, I could see that I wasn't the only one with a lot on my mind.  
  
"They're gonna have to shut the school down," he said, as if he had been holding the words inside for ages, and was now relieved to speak the unspeakable.  
  
"WHAT?!? They can't do that! Why?"  
  
"It's unsafe for students, Adam. Fights break out everyday, nobody is learning, nobody feels safe; it's not the way a school should be."  
  
"But can they shut it down? Why haven't they fixed it? Why can't they fix it?" I was now standing up, leaning on the table, held up by clenched fists.  
  
"No one knows why this is going on; you can't fix what you don't even understand, Adam." Hagrid looked wistfully out the steamed window, as if he was remembering past days, ones filled with less trouble and terror.  
  
"I would stay, through anything."  
  
"I know, Adam, but it's not up to you."  
  
"Then who is it up to?"  
  
"Dumbledore. He's been trying to wait this out, but nothing has gotten better, only worse." He added some more hot water to both of our cups. I sat somberly, nursing the beverage, making it last as long as possible.  
  
'Something wasn't right; something didn't fit.'  
  
"I've lost a lot of friends, Hagrid: Ron, Hermione, Harry."  
  
"Everyone is losing friends, and the fact is that friendship is what holds Hogwarts' together; once that glue is gone, Hogwarts' might as well close." I could see tears of sorrow form in his eyes, nearly camouflaged by the whimsical smile which graced his lips.  
  
I kept my eyes on the mug, studying the swirling pattern the tea made as I ran my spoon through it. Spiraling into the center, like a tornado, I watched as calm liquid was pushed into the action; a force which was once a small ripple, was now causing every tea atom to twirl around the cup, trying to find a place to rest.  
  
"That's it," I said, without inflection, into my mug.  
  
"What's it?"  
  
"I know why this is happening."  
  
"You do?" he asked, his dormant elation now revived.  
  
"Yeah, I do." I grabbed my cloak and fastened it around my shoulders, preparing to trudge back into the chilly February morning which was upon us.  
  
"Adam? What is it? What is causing this?"  
  
With the doorknob in my hand, I looked over my shoulder at Hagrid.  
  
"Not what, Hagrid, but whom."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I flew around the edges of the stadium, bat in hand. The game was proceeding, but its progression was far from normal. Matching the mood, a dark cloud hung low over us, so close to the ground that Harry was nearly flying through it.  
  
After the talk with Hagrid earlier that day, my head was swimming. I didn't look at things that way I did before. Everything was subjected to my suspicious gaze, I trusted nothing anymore. I didn't give anything my full attention; during class I was so focused on my own thoughts that I didn't even realize when the class had ended. I didn't bother to eat and even Quidditch, something that usually made me well up with passion, was a chore now. I need time to think; this was not the place I desired to be.  
  
The whole time I pondered and worried and surmised, one name occupied the tip of my tongue:  
  
'Voldemort.'  
  
It had to be him behind all this, I though. Friendships were the glue that held the school together, but somehow, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had managed to melt that bond, and was reveling in the destruction which was Hogwarts'. Unless he was stopped, the school would be close within a week.  
  
The bludger flew by me, and I took off after it. With little emotion, I smacked it back, away from Alicia. She smiled, but I just continued on, offering no response. Still on its tail, I followed the bludger up into the sky, heading for the grey mass which cast a long, dark shadow over all the attendees. Climbing higher and higher, I neared the spot where Harry and Malfoy sat, perched on their sticks, prepared for the moment when their services would be needed.  
  
"Hey, Adam! Who's gonna back you up now? Where are your friends now?" Malfoy cackled, laughing menacingly in my direction. Searching for help, I looked in Harry's direction. Our eyes met, but nothing else connected. He averted his gaze, an action which subjected me to even more of Malfoy's laughter. Not knowing what else to do, I descended, following my bludger away from the two seekers.  
  
The match continued on, but Slytherin clearly had control of the game. Our hearts weren't in it; the unstoppable alliance of Adam and Harry was gone, decimated, dissolved and with that destruction, we were left vulnerable; not that we were the only two players on the teams, but we were the one consistent thing on the squad. Harry and I could always be counted on to pull through, but with the recent events, that once trusty duo was no more and the whole team needed to reassess where they stood; a game against Slytherin was not what team Gryffindor needed at the moment.  
  
Every so often, I would look into the stand, unceasingly searching for Ron and Hermione, but they were no where to be found. All the banners which had once cheered me on where non-existent and the audience hardly seemed to notice me; whenever I passed a section of the bleachers, they would look away and focus on another player, as if watching me would turn them to pillars of salt. Normally, I wouldn't have been irritated by such a treatment, but without Ron and Hermione there, everything seemed wrong and out of place.  
  
Cheers began to escape the mouths of the fans. The celebrating was not coming from the Gryffindor bleachers, though. Nearby, I could see Slytherin fans screaming with glee, while faces of dejection and disappointment belonged to those with the maroon and gold scarves. I didn't even need look up; I knew which hand held the Snitch. The fans had already revealed the victor and rejected the defeated.  
  
The game was over, but the war wasn't nearly finished.  
  
Anyone would have thought it to be a rush of air, but I knew what that characteristic sound really was. It grew louder and louder as it neared me, an arrow seeking the bull's eye. Sensing my demise, I almost welcomed it. Sitting vigilant on my broom, I made no attempt to dodge it or get out of the bludger's path; after all, I had little reason to. If the ball wanted to take me out, it would be doing the school a service.  
  
Ron and Harry and Hermione could go back to having their friendships, the Quidditch squad would find a replacement and Dumbledore would have one less grey hair to worry about. Basically, take me out of the picture and normalcy would be restored.  
  
I was the one factor that the school didn't need.  
  
At first, it felt like someone was laying a hand on my left shoulder. Its tenderness soon escalated, though, to more of a driving force, like it was trying to push me away, off my broom, and out of the arena. Soon, the pushing became a drilling, and my shoulder began to ache, but I almost enjoyed the pain.  
  
'Just end it,' I thought.  
  
A burning, searing pain radiated from my shoulder, down my arm and into my torso. Reaching the muscles which surrounded my lungs, they seized up, knocking what air I had in me out. My other arm, guided by involuntary forces, grabbed my shoulder, trying to save what was left. All of this was to no avail.  
  
'I can save them.but why?' was all I thought, over and over as the bludger continued to impale me.  
  
I could feel my bones crack and shatter, but I didn't even wince. The pain was almost comforting, the one constant in my life, the one thing I knew I could always rely on. I had no real parents, I had no friends, I didn't have a brother. On my own, pain was my only companion in the long depressing trek called 'life'.  
  
Its job finished, the ball continued in a straight path down to the ground, the game over.  
  
'Hadn't the game ended before I was hit?'  
  
I glanced behind me, to see one of the Slytherin beaters smiling wickedly with Malfoy at his side, enjoying the show as well.  
  
My lower lip quivered. Slowly and uncontrollably, I slipped off my broom and careened towards the earth. Falling through the air, seconds passed like minutes. I could see the individual faces focused on me, mouths open, shocked at how far on man could fall, from peak to base.  
  
I hit the ground with a sickening 'thud'. All I could feel was the crunching of my bones, unable to overcome the earth's force and losing to it in a grand fashion.  
  
Lying there, I could see raindrops began to fall from the sky. One landed in my eye, and I blinked. I wasn't crying, or gasping, or moaning. The stadium was silent and the only sound I could hear was the beating of my heart and the pulsing of the arteries in my ears. Still staring up into the sky, examining the cloud in all its pallor, I closed my eyes.  
  
"I can save them," I whispered.  
  
With that, I blacked out. 


	11. Chapter 9: Determination

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter 9  
  
  
  
  
  
'Adam.....'  
  
'Adam.....'  
  
The whispered voice called to me over and over, undulating through my ears. I was walking down the street, passing by parked cars, their wiper blades pinning down piles of parking tickets. The meters blinked the red of violation, but no one came to free their vehicle from the bonds of paper. They merely sat, hands on the wheel, staring ahead, as if waiting to leave.  
  
People passed me on the sidewalk, though, a comforting fact. However, they didn't actually walk; rather, they were frozen, and merely floated past. Their facial expressions shifted every now and then, but their appendages never did. Everything else remained motionless.  
  
I managed to function normally, luckily. My eyes tried to catch every face, and I attempted to make some gesture each time, to get their attention. I would flail my arms, shout at them, even push them, but they never responded. Somehow, I knew they saw me, but never let me know.  
  
'Adam.....'  
  
I kept hearing my name. My head swiveled about madly, trying to pinpoint the source of the eerie call. Even my environment was a puzzle in itself. The buildings were all different but generic nevertheless. One moment it looked as if I was in Portland, while the next, Spokane. Around another corner, I turned: Cleveland, perhaps. Every where I went, I was going someplace, but no place all the same.  
  
The grey of the sidewalk mixed with the grey of the sky, making every object a muted shade of it. My eyes starved for color, I walked on, still trying to find the voice. Walking in a lunging fashion, I held my hands out, almost as if I was expecting the sound to fall from the sky and into my palms.  
  
'Adam...'  
  
Louder this time, I looked to the right. Behind the store window, in the display area, I saw three figures. I couldn't make out who they were; for some reason, I couldn't even see whether they were male or female. Feebly, I tried to crane my neck at different angles, to try and get a read on their faces, but this didn't prove fruitful either.  
  
All three of them then pressed their hands against the glass, revealing to me outstretched fingers, digits which called out to me, as if begging me to reach in and pull them out, away from the display. Only able to mimic, I flattened my palm against the outside of the window. I could almost feel the warmth being emitted from one of the three hands.  
  
Then, suddenly, the glass went icy cold. I pulled back my hand abruptly, from the initial shock. Nearly frostbitten, I shook it profusely to try and regain blood flow in it. While I did this, I noticed the hands, which once clung to the glass, now were sliding down, towards the base of the window.  
  
'Adam...' I heard again, louder than ever, and yet still a whisper.  
  
'Adam...' A wind suddenly materialized, causing my tattered jacket to flail about, tossing around like an untrained whip. It chilled me immediately, but I stood, mesmerized by the hands, still 'falling' to the bottom of the glass.  
  
'Adam!' The voice this time boomed at me. My ears began to ring, but I managed to keep my ocular sensory in use. Moments after the voice, a massive black cloud surrounded me, but left as quickly as it had come. Whooshing off, it took with it the icy breeze and the hands as well. Before me was an empty display, nothing in it whatsoever.  
  
Madly, I squinted trying to peer inside, but I still saw not a soul within the enclosure. Becoming frantic, I picked up a trash can standing next to me. Gripping it tightly, in one massive sweep, I snatched it up and hurled it at the window.  
  
Then.  
  
"Oh God." I said, breathing heavily. Bolting upwards in bed, I sat, trying to collect myself. I could feel a drip of sweat trickle down the inside of my neck. Moisture also collected on my back, drawing my blue pajamas tight against my skin. Desiring cooler conditions, I reached back with my right arm and snatched a piece of the fabric. Fanning in air, I tried to look about the wing, but could see little. The moon already set, I knew it had to be no earlier than two, but it couldn't have been too much later; not a single ray of sunlight lit the sky outside the tall windows.  
  
I could faintly see the light of a small candle burning off in the distance, most likely from the nurses' station. Although they were most likely snoring, I couldn't hear a sound. Even the normal clicks and creaks we all here from time to time, were absent, causing a slight knot to form in my throat.  
  
Then, just as in the dream, a cool wind ran through the hall I was in. Running over my sheets, they somehow managed to find a way through the tightly-woven fabric and reached my perspirating skin. The sudden chill sent a shiver down my spine, but I half expected it. I almost seemed to know the wind by name.  
  
Off the bat, I knew it wasn't a natural wind. It was created by someone, someone who wanted my attention badly and would get it at any cost.  
  
The time had come.  
  
"Voldemort." I said with determination. At the name, the breeze blew harder than before. I could see that it wasn't affecting any of the objects around me; the other sheets remained at rest, motionless.  
  
Stronger and stronger it blew, compelling me to get out off bed. Nearly throwing me from the mattress, I managed to swing my legs over the edge and carefully slide off, making sure to not shift my aching left shoulder too much. Barefoot, I stood, wondering what the gusts would direct me to do next.  
  
Pausing, I reached out for my wand, which was laying on the nightstand. Before I could touch my fingertips to it, though, the wind directed its efforts towards the stick and knocked it off the stand, and onto the stony floor. Touching down, it made no noise, but merely began to roll away, under the other beds. Rather than reach out, I saw the game for what it was and merely walked with the wind, as it led me out of the nurses' wing and into the darkened halls of Hogwarts', my wand tumbling along about ten feet ahead of my steps.  
  
I could feel the air grow colder the further I walked. The wind still guided my every move and took on a howling sound, almost as if to let me know that it was still there.  
  
Suddenly, I heard a blast off in the distance. It was strong and deep, its sound waves running down the same halls I paced along, reaching my ears. I listened carefully for any possible aftermath, the sound of shattering glass, crumbling stone.anything that would give me a clue as to where the explosion occurred. Nothing.  
  
I quickened my steps, to match the increasing wind speed. With little to go on, I simply went to the end of the hall and turned left, a choice based simply on instincts. Soon, I could small an unusual aroma, almost one of burning cloth or hair. At such a thought, my heart rate increased rapidly.  
  
Now running, I turned another corner. There, at my feet were the bodies of Ron, Hermione and Harry.  
  
Immediately, I could feel my legs buckle under a weight they had carried for years with great ease. My internal organs turned to mush and the urge to vomit became very strong. The brains I had now in shock, all my eyes could do was look over the three bodies before me.  
  
Laid out almost in a triangular pattern, their heads pointed outward, away from the center; their feet nearly meeting in the middle. The air above them was cloudy, the obvious source of the odor I had picked up earlier. Still in their uniforms, all three had visible wounds, as if they had just been on some battlefront. Blood oozed from a wound on Ron's forehead, while Hermione upper lip was blue, a shade nearly matching her blackened right eye. Harry's arm was close to being severed; one of his bones poked out from a rolled-up sleeve of his cloak.  
  
Besides the physical ailments, their expressions were ones of pain and hatred: mouths upturned in disgust, brows furrowed, teeth clenched. Their hands were tightened into fists, still clutching wands whose tips were blackened and smoldering.  
  
However, the one difference between the three applied to this very attribute. Harry's hand didn't grip a wand. In fact, looking around, I didn't see any remains of his weapon, as if it had disintegrated. Trying to get a closer look at the wands grasped by Ron and Hermione, I could see the red liquid crusting around cut knuckles.  
  
It was all too much.  
  
The blood.  
  
The bodies.  
  
The faces.  
  
Bending over without any grace or refinement, I threw up on the floor, right next to Hermione. The remains of my last super now spilled across the stone, rolling along it like a flood, untamable by any means known to man.  
  
Even after throwing up, I didn't feel like I had let it all out. My heart ached, an ailment no expulsion could mend.  
  
My mind raced.  
  
'How?'  
  
'Why?'  
  
Like a cued actor, the wind again picked up, this time blowing against me. Standing, tears forming along the rims of my eyes, I walked backwards, away from the grotesque scene, determined to fix it, to make everything 'okay' once more.  
  
'It just can't end this way,' I though, repeatedly.  
  
Backtracking, I walked straight where I had turned left, now stepping into new territory. However, a few halls later, the area became all too familiar. Quickly, minutes later, I found myself standing in front of two decorated doors, inlayed with jewels and colored glass. Panels bordered it, helping the whole ensemble fill up a massive hole in the stone wall. Known to all who ever ventured into Hogwarts', these were the doors guarding the Great Hall.  
  
I remained motionless, not knowing what to do next. The wind no longer present, I knew this was my final destination. Without any question, I knew my fate and the fate of every other student in the school lied on the other side of the wooden portal. On the other side, I would have a chance to save Harry and Ron and Hermione.  
  
'But why?'  
  
'Would they care?'  
  
Without any good response, I simply wiped my nose and pushed forward one of the doors. Peering in, I could see nothing. Every corner of the hall was wiped clean of any distinguishable shapes. A black so indescribably dark covered every molecule within the room, a color I expected to find in a black hole, not Hogwarts'. Hardly able to take in a breath, I stepped into the abyss and shut the door behind me.  
  
Walking towards what I guessed to be front table, usually occupied by important school personnel, I wasn't able to find any of the long tables which had filled the hall just that morning. The benches were gone as well, giving me the feeling that I was a single being, lost in a endless ocean of nothingness.  
  
My ears picked up a sharp 'click'.  
  
Spinning to try and get an idea of what was going on, I was hit square in the eyes by a bright spotlight. Without time to brace myself for such a shock, I staggered backwards a tad, throwing up my arms to shield my eyes. Blinking a few times, I tried to look ahead.  
  
Even with the light, nothing in the room lit up except for me. Somehow, every photon was bouncing off of my frame, leaving the other objects in the dark.  
  
A menacing chill took hold of me, and I shivered. More sweat was collecting just below my nose and I was heaving, rather than breathing.  
  
Something on the ground appeared. Staring though the dark which managed to separate me and the newly revealed entity, I saw my wand on the ground, inches away from my feet. Fearing some sort of awful effect, I remained standing, not bothering to stoop down, and grab my weapon.  
  
"You can grab it, Adam."  
  
The voice rang through the hall, leaping from wall to wall, using them almost like mirrors. Its tone was intense, but calm. Soothing as it was, I became even more suspicious, knowing full well this wasn't the calling of something who wished to please me. Perhaps a more fitting word might have been 'murder'.  
  
It was him.  
  
He-who-must-not-be-named.  
  
Voldemort.  
  
"I'm guessing you know who I am, Adam; I've never though of you as ignorant. After all, it was more than just an evening stroll which brought you here, no?"  
  
The friendliness which filled his voice made my eyes burn with fury. Digging my fingernails into my palm, I knew that if I squeezed any harder, I would surely bleed as a result. My ears were becoming hot, as were my cheeks. To cope, adrenaline began to flow through my veins, delivering an added boost I knew I would be needing.  
  
"What do you want of me, Voldemort?" I shouted to the dark.  
  
"No chit-chat? No greeting?"  
  
His voice stopped, and was followed by the some sort of shifting. Footsteps soon became audible; he was on the move, but I stood still, not budging an inch. This is ground I would not give up.  
  
"Mister Barrowton, you have always possessed two very fascinating gifts. Do you know of them?" he philosophized, almost mocking me. I tried to follow the sound marking his travel the best I could.  
  
"I'm sure you do," he continued. "Come now, we both know what they are."  
  
His movement stopped. My lips were crushed together.  
  
"The first is the most obvious. It had been under the radar screen for sometime, mind you. I had nearly forgotten about you, Adam. Even you had no idea what had happened, an advantage for me. However, upon your arrival at this school, the memories came flooding back. That ever happen to you, Adam?"  
  
Not bothering for me to respond, Voldemort began walking again, still hiding in the darkness. I had no idea where he was exactly; he could have been at the other end of the hall or even right in front of me. I swallowed again, but remained prepared for action. I eyed the wand carefully.  
  
"Ahhhh, it was magnificent. Lily and James.so young, so innocent. You were their first child, I'm sure you know by now. While normally, I don't see any point in bothering the common wizard or witch, I saw the power your parents possessed and knew that if they should bare offspring, it could lead to me having a problem on my hands."  
  
"So I became your problem, huh?" I asked, smirking at the words.  
  
"Quite. Once you arrived, I knew I had to act fast. Visiting them night after night, I haunted their dreams, made it impossible to carry on a normal life. I put curses on everything they possessed: their furniture, their pets, their shrubbery..even the very walls that made up their house. However, aside form the extensive skill they held in the way of magic, I soon found they possessed one equally annoying feature: their stubbornness. They refused to give into my will."  
  
He paused, thoughtfully recalling his treachery.  
  
"I became exasperated. So, finally, pushed beyond my limit of tolerance, I presented to them an ultimatum: either part with your child or die."  
  
Infuriated, I spit, trying to counteract the boiling rage that was building within my soul.  
  
"Needless to say, they accepted. Naïve as they were, they understood that I, Lord Voldemort, was not someone to bargain with; to this end, I will grant them my appreciation. Within hours, you were out of their lives and my mind."  
  
"But then they had Harry," I stated.  
  
"Much to my chagrin, they did. An unwise decision it was, Adam. You see, they thought that since they had managed to survive one of my visits, who's to say they couldn't survive another?" he questioned.  
  
"However, they were gravely mistaken; no pun intended, of course," he guffawed.  
  
Not able to contain myself anymore, I snatched the wand off the floor and cradled it in my hand, preparing to unleash the deadliest spell I could concoct. Wanting to wait for a moment in which I knew he would be close, I stayed balanced on the balls of my feet, almost in a crouching position. Now the hunter was about to become the hunted.  
  
"As I mentioned before, there are two very intriguing characteristics you have, Adam. Now, as for the second one, let's simply take a look at you right now."  
  
The light expanded out a tad, forming a yellow circle, the middle of which I occupied, making it look like I was on stage, playing the lead role.  
  
"In your eyes, I see fury. Your hands, your stance, your face.they all show how angry and bitter you are. This is what puzzles me, Adam. While you and Harry are brothers, you two are completely different. He is somewhat mellow, you are high-strung, one could say; he is a pacifist most of the time, you rarely let an opportunity to speak out pass you by; whenever he says black, you say white, so on, so on, so on," he explained.  
  
"What's your point, Voldemort?" I was growing impatient at his meandering dialogue.  
  
"You and Harry, two utterly different people, see everything thing in opposing fashions. My question to you is, if he can defend himself against me, through divine intervention keep in mind, will you, Adam, be able to do the same? Will you break the destiny that has become you, or will you fail, and become another notch in my wand?"  
  
I didn't respond to the question. Rather, I posed another to him.  
  
"Why is Harry lying in the hall, and not here?" I inquired.  
  
"Always thinking, aren't you? Well, here is where my genius came into play, my friend. I had always taken him or his pathetic friends head-on, you see. Yet, somehow, every time, they had managed to push me back, destroying my plans and displeasing me greatly. So, I figured that I had to reassess how to go about wiping the rest of you vile Potters' of the face of the Earth. Adam, here I must thank you because it was upon your arrival that I managed to work out a scheme and sleep peacefully for the first time in months."  
  
"Why's that?" I hissed.  
  
"Once I saw the tension between you and Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, I realized how very simple it would be to end Hogwarts' and your pitiable lives in one fell swoop, all without me having to fight a single battle. I merely had to make you all hate each other."  
  
"Sounds difficult." I was being honest, but in reality was buying time.  
  
"Not really. When dealing with heart, things are easy to warp and bend. Such minor adjustments can quickly change an entire social environment from peaceful to unhealthy, the very atmosphere I was hoping for."  
  
Smugly, he continued.  
  
"As you picked up on, friendships began to dissolve. Students who were once pals now bickered endlessly, and roommates fought, knocking each other down with spell after spell..ahhh..it was beautiful, really. Hate occupied every moment of the day, and each day that passed brought a more convincing assurance that Hogwarts' would soon be no more."  
  
For effect, he loudly drew in a breath.  
  
"It even reached your wretched friends, Adam."  
  
"No." I whispered.  
  
"Did you not see their bodies? And no, I had no hand in it; it was all their doing. Amazing how quickly friends can turn to enemies, isn't it, Adam?"  
  
As he spoke, I could sense him circling me, closing in on where I stood. Refusing to give into his taunts, I only allowed my eyes to trace his path of movement, or what I at least believed to be his path; he remained shrouded in darkness.  
  
"You're the only one left, Adam. You are in one heck of a spot. You have no friends, your temper is flaring, and you are holding a wand."  
  
"I have friends," I muttered,  
  
"You do? Who? Because from what I recall, they all gave up on you. One by one, they left you to yourself. There is no Ron or Hermione or Harry on your side any longer. Just like the rest, you fell apart and are now lone soldiers, standing high on a bluff, aching to be picked off, one by one."  
  
"You've never been one to have friends of any worth, Adam; you and I both know this. Now, it's time you admitted it to yourself."  
  
'He was right.'  
  
"You know I'm right."  
  
'God, I can't believe it.'  
  
"It's just you and me, Adam. The great Voldemort versus the last of the great Potters'." I could feel how close he was; I was now able to smell the awful stench of his breath, wreaking of death.  
  
"It's your move." That said, light began to reveal his figure, starting at the bottom and working up his torso and beyond. Inch by inch, his identity was revealed, a sight which sent me reeling in shock. I couldn't believe it.  
  
"Malfoy?" I gasped. Before me stood the blond-haired teenager: my rival, my enemy.  
  
"Like it?" he asked, modeling the form he had taken on.  
  
"Unlike you, Adam, he was quite easy to control. Once his state of mind was ripe for the picking, I just decided to take his entire physical form while I was at it. Looking back, I can see what a smart choice I made." Smiling coolly, he snapped and the whole hall became full of cool, unwelcoming light. Blinking again, I watched as Malfoy walked a distance away from me and then turned to face me once more.  
  
"I hope you enjoy the wand, Adam. Perhaps, it might even the odds between us," he said. Not understanding, I stared at the stick that I held. Seeing that it wasn't my own, I inspected it further. I had seen it before, many times, in the Gryffindor Tower, in spells class, in my room.  
  
"This isn't." I became chocked up, not believing what I held in my hand.  
  
"It is. The wands we now hold are the only two of such caliber in existence. Harry once had a use for it, but now.well." he snickered, "he doesn't have much of a use for it." Pointing the tip towards me, he spoke:  
  
"En garde."  
  
Tears flowing profusely, I admired the wand. It had been through so many battles, won so many fights, saved so many people, it would most likely do it again.but only in the right hands. I wasn't Harry, so the wand was useless.  
  
This was a fight I couldn't win.  
  
I had met my match.  
  
Slowly, I let the stick slip between my fingers and fall to the floor. Hitting sharply against the stone, its echo resonated in my ears, a sound I will always remember. It marked the end of the person I had always been. No longer was I Adam Barrowton, but merely a lonely soldier, waiting to be shot down.  
  
"Very well," Voldemort said, triumphantly. "I guess I have the first strike."  
  
'No.'  
  
"My first spell shall be."  
  
'I'm not alone.' My eyes remained focused on the wand resting at my feet.  
  
"CRUCIO!"  
  
'I will save them.'  
  
I felt a beam hit me. Pain was not what I felt; the agony which engulfed every part of my body was beyond belief. I cried out, screaming, moaning nothings. On my hands and knees, I wasn't able to control any of my movements. Held up only by torturous pain, and nothing else, I rocked back and forth on my elbows, screeching at the top of my lungs.  
  
My mind, though, was weathering the storm.  
  
'Adam.stay with me.'  
  
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I bellowed, expelling blood from my mouth onto the ground. I wasn't able to see straight, so I closed my eyes and clamped my mouth shut.  
  
"You've never had friends. They hurt you and you, them. It's over, Adam," Malfoy heckled, his spell finished. Relishing in my state, he stood, arms crossed, wand held loosely between his fingers.  
  
"Now, pick up your wand and fight me!" he yelled.  
  
Shaking, growing weaker by the second, reaching for the wand, I took the handle into my grip and squeezed it. Even such a task seemed to wear me out, expending non-existent energy. Without resistance, my elbows bent and I fell into a pool of my own fluids.  
  
"This is really sad, Adam. Here you will die, alone, without friends, without family, without hope. You were nothing but a long-lost failure." He seemed to chew on the words, savoring their viciousness.  
  
Slowly, my thoughts rewound themselves, running through all that had happened. The only memories I could picture were the mistakes I had made, how I had hurt my friends, and turned them into my adversaries. Scene after scene repeated itself, throwing me further into a pit of despair.  
  
Somehow, though, I knew I was wrong.  
  
'They are here with me, in spirit.'  
  
The thought sinking in, my body began to swell, not with pain, or anger, but with pride and strength. Warmth flowed to the tips of my fingers, and chilled blood started to make its way to my limbs once again.  
  
Studying the wand, I knew they were here, watching over me. They always had been; I just never realized it.  
  
'Now, it's my turn to watch over them.'  
  
Opening my eyes, I looked up and stared at Malfoy, our eyes locking on each other. Wearing a face of vengeance, I hoisted myself up onto one knee and began to stand up.  
  
"Oh, so you're not down yet, are you? Well, I await your move."  
  
A slight wobble later, I was now on my feet again. My jaw hung slightly slack, while my injured shoulder still throbbed. Harry's wand safely in my grip, I was prepared.  
  
"Make your move, Mister Potter. Come now, show me the Adam I know, the one who won't put up with being pushed around."  
  
"No," I said with gusto, no longer afraid.  
  
I knew what I had to do.  
  
He had lost.  
  
"CAST A SPELL YOU IMPUTENT PUSTULE!"  
  
"No. I won't." I simply remained motionless, a slight smile creeping to my lips.  
  
"FINE THEN! IMPERIO!" he shouted. A light burst out from the tip of his wand, streaming towards me. Holding up Harry's wand, like a shield, I somehow managed to block its path. As if it were a sponge, it absorbed the spell in its entirety. Uninjured, I lowered the weapon to my side again, a new power growing inside of me.  
  
I had the advantage.  
  
Malofy, paced backwards a tad, in disbelief.  
  
"How." was all he managed to whisper.  
  
"You are the one who's alone, Voldemort." I kept my gaze fastened on him. Aggressively, I began to walk closer to him, as calmly as I could.  
  
"Hahaha.very clever, Adam, but you are no match for me," he said, in an almost sheepish fashion.  
  
"You think friendship is just a bond that materializes in times of plenty and then dissipates once more solemn ones arrive?" I kept moving towards him.  
  
"Your mind games won't work!"  
  
"This is just the truth, Voldemort. The mistake you made was in underestimating the power of friendship." I bellowed, lunging forward, ".brotherhood." I said, in much the same fashion, ".and love!"  
  
Only a few feet separated the two of us. In desperation, he pointed at me, armed, prepared for a final assault.  
  
"YOU ARE FINISHED POTTER! AVADA KEDAVRA"  
  
Green light filled the Great Hall and the core of it flew at me. Without any vacillation, I held the wand tight with both hands, and pointed straight at the light, prepared f or it to hit.  
  
Crashing into the tip of it, the wand acted as a wall. The light, confused, began letting off gusts of winds, causing my robe to toss about and my hair to be blown back. Squinting through the storm, I watched at the light began to die out, the wind becoming stronger as it did. Moments passed, until finally, with little fanfare, the glowing spell dissipated, and vanished altogether.  
  
I heard a sharp gasp and Voldemort dropped his wand.  
  
Wanting it all to end, I made my move.  
  
"Friendship is about watching out for each other," I explained, closing the distance between up. "Sticking together, through thick and thin."  
  
My piece finished, I reached out and grabbed Malfoy's hand, taking it in mine. Instantaneously, Voldemort's screams filled the hall. Smoke materialized, emanating from his hand. Try as he might, I kept a firm grip on him, not allowing him to pull away.  
  
"Malfoy, I know you're there. Don't give in."  
  
Shrieking, his entire body began to shake violently.  
  
"We all have to watch out for each other, Malfoy."  
  
His voice reached a pitch which made my ears throb, and shivers ran down my spine in a rapid waves. My body began to quiver as well, sweat coating every inch of it.  
  
"Like it or not, we are friends!" I shouted the final word. With that, everything fell silent. In Malfoy's face, I saw the evilness of Voldemort vanish, and, for a split moment, say a true companion, an ally. Sparkling tears formed in his eyes, matching the ones in mine.  
  
This was short-lived, however. Before I could speak, or even sever contact with him, I felt a massive blast toss my body into the air. Instantly, everything went black.  
  
I fell unconscious, my body in shock, exiting the play I had been a part of for far too long. 


	12. Chapter 10: Tears

Harry Potter and the Test  
  
Chapter 10  
  
I was wrapped in warmth. All around me, I could feel soft cloth swaddling me. Shifting slightly, I could feel how snuggly I was tucked in. The feeling was heavenly and I smiled, refusing to open my eyes.  
  
Then, I sensed something odd. On my neck, I could feel something warm. Listening, closely, I could pick up a gentle inhale and then an exhale. Although my brain was slow, having been out for a while, I was quick to realize that the breaths I was feeling against my skin were not that of my own.  
  
Slowly, so as to not jar my body anymore than necessary, I turned to my left. There, beside me, was a sight to behold.  
  
Hermione was lying next to me. Snuggled under the sheets, she was turned towards me, her angelic face just inches away from mine. Immediately, I began to blush, for obvious reasons. Then, however, my heart began to swell. She was so beautiful; I was overcome with happiness.  
  
Without moving, I allowed my eyes to look around the room. The lamps were burning softly, giving a comforting glow to the whole room. Outside the window, I wasn't able to see any stars from my vantage point, but the dark veil of night was clearly covering the school and the surrounding countryside. Shadows of books and owl-cages danced on the walls, but made no noise. The only sound to be heard was Hermione's gentle breathing, steady and metered.  
  
I nudged myself closer to her ever so slightly. Picking up her scent, I inhaled it, allowing it to overwhelmed my senses. It was light, feminine, but not too flowery. A feeble attempt it may be to put it into words, but it was the smell of a girl who had fought a thousand battles, run through a thousand fields in a thousand summers and had a thousand dreams. She was an angel and I just happened to be blessed enough to have her lying next to me.  
  
I couldn't resist myself any longer. Leaning into her, I kissed her softly on the lips. After a few moments, she stirred. Without opening her eyes, she reciprocated, allowing a soft smile to creep onto her lips. She opened her eyes slowly, and looked directly into mine, grinning.  
  
Leaning over her, smiling back, I knew words didn't need to be said. We were madly in love, and nothing else in the outside world mattered.  
  
Hermione let off a slight giggle and wrapped her arms around my neck. The sheets now pulled back a tad, I could see that she was wearing a beautiful white night gown, which made her look even more angelic. Her brown hair spilled all over the pillow and she glowed in the soft light which filled the room.  
  
Careful not to jostle my injuries, she gently reversed our positions, turning me over so that I was on my back. I ached all over, but as she brought her hand to my face, holding it tenderly in her hands, the pain which gripped my limbs disappeared. As she leaned over me, I knew I was looking into the eyes of the girl I loved and always would.  
  
Planting a passionate kiss on my lips, she stared into my eyes and smiled slyly, as if she knew some secret. Wanting to know more, I began the conversation.  
  
"What happened?" I didn't have much of a voice, but I managed to get this out.  
  
"A lot," she said, being far too concise. Lying down on her side next to me, she continued.  
  
"After the battle, we."  
  
"Wait, wait." I said, interrupting her. "How did you know about the battle?"  
  
"We saw most of it. The doors were sealed shut by some spell and the glass wasn't flawless, so we only saw shifting shapes for the most part, no clear figures, but we knew you were in there; we had to watch the whole thing."  
  
Her voice became choked at the end of her sentence.  
  
"It was the scariest thing I've ever experienced."  
  
She paused.  
  
"You almost died." Finishing, I saw tears began to collect in her eyes. Her brown eyes sparkled in the light and her lips began to quiver. Not knowing how to respond, I wrapped her up in my arms and held her close to me.  
  
"I'm guessing that you knew who I was fighting?"  
  
"Yeah. After we woke up, Harry's scar was throbbing. We tried every spell we could think of, but we just couldn't get in there to fight with you. Voldemort must have put some curse on the door."  
  
'She has no idea it was Malfoy being used as a pawn,' I thought. As much as I desired to talk about it, I thought it best to keep it to myself. There was enough animosity between him and our group.  
  
"You guys would have fought with me?" I asked, slightly astonished. "Even after all I did and said to you?"  
  
"Adam," she said sharply, tossing her head up to look at me directly, "of course! Look, we'll go through some rough times."  
  
"Some very rough times," I interjected, trying to push home my point.  
  
"Yes, we will, but we'll always come out of it okay. Harry is your brother, Ron is your friend."  
  
"Still?" I inquired.  
  
"Yes, and I'm.hopefully more than just a friend?" she asked, smiling sweetly.  
  
"Hermione, you mean so much more to me than any friend ever could, and."  
  
I knew what I wanted to say next, but stumbled on the words. It would be the first time I had said these words to anyone besides family, and I couldn't even get it right this one time.  
  
".and.I love you."  
  
Not knowing what to expect for a response, I braced for my face to be slapped with an open palm. However, the reply was much more pleasant.  
  
"I love you, too, Adam." With that, she began to kiss me, first on the lips, and then on the neck. I 'hmmm'ed in delight, feeling her soft lips against my flesh.  
  
"Then, I guess you won't mind wearing my pajamas," she said, pausing, and letting off a mischievous laugh.  
  
"What?" I said, trying to see what I was clothed in. My eyes focusing, I observed that I was wearing a blue and white pinstriped button- down pajama top covered with little teddy bears, accompanied by what I was guessing to be matching pants. Before I could ask for an explanation, Hermione continued from where she had left off.  
  
"When the doors finally opened, we ran in to find you curled up on the floor in the back corner. You were pretty badly beat up and your pajamas were pretty tattered." She laughed cautiously, beginning to blush as she finished.  
  
"Are you saying I was naked?" I asked incredulously.  
  
"Well, kind of. It wouldn't be the first time, though," she said, trying to brush off the thought. "Remember the first time I put you into bed?" she inquired, giving me a wink.  
  
"Oh," was my only reply as it was my turn to become red as a beet.  
  
"It's okay; don't worry. I didn't do anything bad and the guys didn't poke fun. Why would they? You just had defeated 'him'. You saved us all."  
  
"Good point," I replied after considering her point, which made my cheeks cool a little.  
  
"So," she continued, "we took you to the nurses' wing and they bandaged you up pretty good."  
  
At this, I checked under my shirt and saw wads of medical tape and gauze covering most of my chest and one of my arms was in a cast I hadn't noticed until now. This was probably because it was soft and pillowy, cradling the arm rather then just rigidly holding it in place. It tingled a little, which was probably a sign that the bone-mending potion was at work already.  
  
"The three of us managed to convince the nurse that you'd be more comfortable in your own bed than one in the hospital wing and since all they could really do was bandage you up anyway, they sent you back here, with us. I stayed by your bedside, and watched over you.all night."  
  
I held her hand as she spoke, feeling like the most special being that had ever walked on the face of the earth. She smiled warmly at me and I returned the expression.  
  
"I have a question, though."  
  
"Shoot," she replied.  
  
"What were you guys doing out that time of night when Voldemort got to you?"  
  
Without a moment's hesitation, she answered:  
  
"We were monitoring the halls around the nurses' wing so that 'he' wouldn't get to you while you were weak."  
  
My heart swelled up, not believing the kind of friends I had, those who would protect and care for me, even in times of strife.  
  
"We followed his voice 'til we got close to the Great Hall and."  
  
She snapped her fingers.  
  
"We were hit with a spell faster than you could say 'pumpkin juice'."  
  
I didn't know what to say.  
  
"I'm sorry," was all I could muster.  
  
"Don't be," she cooed. "We're always going to have your back, just like you'd have ours."  
  
I nodded and gave her another hug, kissing the top of her head.  
  
"And seeing you lying there, sleeping peacefully, I just could help climbing in next to you," she explained. "I hope you don't mind."  
  
"I'm glad you did," I answered her. "There is not a more beautiful sight that I could ever wake up to."  
  
She blushed again at my words and I kissed her once more.  
  
Breaking the contact, she looked around the room, obviously to get me to ask another question, which I did in kind.  
  
"Where is everyone?"  
  
"At the end-of-the-year feast." She said it with such gusto, it was as if she had been waiting to speak the words for ions.  
  
"Well, we got to go!" I said, already beginning to sit up. Surprisingly, I barely felt any pain as I did, even with the speed at which I bolted up from my pillow.  
  
'Those nurses do a good job,' I though to myself happily.  
  
About to head out the door, I heard Hermione call to me.  
  
"Adam," she coaxed.  
  
"What?" I asked, turning back.  
  
"Might be a good idea to wear this," she said, holding up my uniform.  
  
Looking down at the teddy bears, I nodded in agreement and hobbled over to her.  
  
I could hear the murmurs building as we made our way towards the Great Hall. With one arm over her shoulder, Hermione aided me in our travel down the long and, at this moment, empty corridor.  
  
"I guess the Great Hall is in good order, again," I remarked, noting that the year end tradition was in the same place as always.  
  
"Well, it definitely needed some sprucing up, but everyone pitched in and got the job done," she replied. Looking down the hall, I didn't notice the smile that crept to her face.  
  
"Students." I heard Dumbledore bellow over the crowd, off in the distance. The chattering died down at the implied command. Ambling as fast as we could, we continued to close the gap between us and the doors to the Great Hall. My ears remained at attention, wanting to grasp every word the headmaster was saying.  
  
"It has been quite a year," he began, a remark followed by groans of agreement from students and faculty.  
  
"We have been through unimaginable hardships, facing Dark Arts of the likes which I had never expected to grip this school."  
  
Just one hallway to go.  
  
"Friendships were strained and often times dissolved, comrades turning on each other for reasons unbeknownst to them. This power, so great, compelled them to follow through on these dastardly acts, a power, so great, it swept nearly all of us up in its wake."  
  
We had finally arrived, standing in the doorway to the Great Hall. It was comforting to see the massive room filled with rows of witches and wizards, all sitting elbow to elbow in friendship and with out any acrimony between them.  
  
Shifting my gaze, I remember the Slytherin table.  
  
'Well, maybe not unbridled friendship,' I reminded myself. However, my train of though was broken by the return of the headmaster's voice to my stream of consciousness.  
  
"All except perhaps one."  
  
At this, every face in the room turned, taking their attention away from Dumbledore and bestowing it upon me. With Hermione latched onto my arm, we made our way into the hall, every eye focused on us. Trying to forget that we were in the limelight, I kept my head down, trying to make it to my spot at the Gryffindor table. Not a sound was made during that journey from the door to the bench, but it mattered little to me. I just needed to sit down.  
  
With my rear firmly planted in its place, and Hermione settling down beside me, Dumbledore continued on with his speech.  
  
"When this certain student," he said, trying to be vague, although everyone knew perfectly well he was referring to me, "arrived at this school, he asked the question: 'Why?' 'Why am I here?' 'Why am I just finding out now that I am a wizard?' 'Why can't I leave?' 'Why do you think I have some purpose?' 'Why, why, why?'  
  
"Every time I would see him, I would inquire as to how his mission to ascertain the reasoning behind his presence was coming along. Every time, he replied that he was just as lost as he was the moment he arrived.  
  
"Seeking a reason, he questioned his presence here, and, as I have always believed, every question deserves an answer. However, I think he can now see perfectly well why he arrived at Hogwarts', as accidental as it may have been. This student had a mission, and I can say, with the utmost honestly and condor, that he not only completely this task, but did so in the midst of the gravest times known to this school in its existence. Adam Borrowton, you have my gratitude and that of the entire school as well."  
  
With that, the hall erupted in raucous cheers, whistles and whoops. Stunned and shocked by the sudden change in atmosphere, at Hermione's urging, I stood up and accepted the applause. Unsure at how to react properly, I merely waved to the students and then, as inconspicuously as possible, slipped back into my seat.  
  
"As anyone can see," Dumbledore shouted, once more quieting the crowd, "the Great Hall remains undecorated. Before we decide upon a proper color scheme, I believe it is high time to assess the point totals as tallied thus far.  
  
"Ravenclaw," he started, reading from a scroll that had just been handed to him, "has three hundred and twenty points."  
  
A soft applause roamed around the room and quickly died down.  
  
"Gryffindor has collected three hundred and sixty-one points."  
  
Another soft applause. I clapped half-heartedly. With all the fight we had put into winning that cup.too bad we lost a game to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Both of those loses set us back along with the one to Slytherin. Silently, I cursed myself, something which I could see much of my table participating in.  
  
We weren't receiving the acclaim we rightfully deserved.  
  
"Hufflepuff has accumulated four hundred and eleven points."  
  
A louder applause erupted, but was still centralized around the table of second-place finishers. Clearing his throat, and looking a tad glum, Dumbledore read the final total.  
  
"This means that Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy points, finishes in first place."  
  
Loud cheers and shouts filled the room, although, a vast majority of them came from the winners table. Everyone else for the most part looked longingly at the Slytherin table and watched the ceiling, waiting for silver and green banners to unfurl from above.  
  
"However, there is one more set of points which has yet to be awarded." At this, many students looked befuddled, wondering what other event could have the houses gained points for.  
  
"Taking into account the recent events and the extraordinary valor and bravery of one, young wizard," Dumbledore said, smiling directly at me, "I award the Gryffindor house one hundred points."  
  
Cheers of joys filled the air around us. Everyone knew very well that were still a few points short of winning the House Cup, but that mattered little. I had been rewarded for my accomplishments and a vast majority of the air had been let out of Slytherins tires. Clearly, it was a moral victory and one that we were all very proud of, first place or not.  
  
"This means that Gryffindor will finish in second and Slytherin will t--"  
  
"Headmaster, headmaster!" we heard a voice shout. Turning to the entryway, we saw Professor Pitwick trotting along at a good pace towards the table at the front of the Great Hall. Hurrying along, running past hundreds of eyes directed towards him, he clutched a small piece of paper in his hand. Approaching Dumbledore, he handed the slip to the headmaster and mumbled a few words, leaving the student body in the dark.  
  
After scratching our heads for a few moments, wondering what could be important enough to interrupt the awarding of the Cup, Dumbledore finally spoke.  
  
"Professor Pitwick.thank you, Professor," he added as an aside while Pitwick took a seat at the head table, "he has brought to my attention an error he made when he was totaling up the points his classes collected over the years. Luckily, he managed to find this paper, hidden in the back of his schedule, from the beginning of the year, just in time, you might say.  
  
"Therefore," Dumbledore said boldly, to a silent crown, sitting up on the edge of their benches, "to complete the tallies, it must be noted that because of an exemplary response from Miss Hermione Granger, ten points will be added to Gryffindor score."  
  
Rather then separate cheers and shouts of happiness, it was one solid wall of screaming glee which began at our table and soon spread to others, rejoicing in our triumph over Slytherin.  
  
"Gryffindor wins the House Cup," the headmaster said, smiling, thoroughly enjoying the shift in events.  
  
Dumbledore didn't even need to announce the new point totals; we knew we had four hundred and seventy-one points. We knew we had pulled off an upset. We knew we had the Cup. None of that really mattered. What we really were rejoicing about was the aches and pains which we had not only overcome, but triumphed over and through it all, becoming stronger for it. Hogwarts' was one again, and that's all that mattered.  
  
I hugged Hermione tightly in the middle of the shouting crowd that was now on their feet. Giving her a kiss, I squeezed both her hands.  
  
"Now, I know what you did that for," I laughed, with a wink. She just smiled back and kissed me in reply.  
  
As the Cup was being passed down the line, I saw hand after hand touch its shiny surface, reveling in the madness of it all. Finally reaching Harry, he turned and bestowed it upon me.  
  
"You hold it up; you deserve it."  
  
He paused in mid-motion, handing the Cup to me.  
  
".brother."  
  
Grinning inanely, I gripped the Cup's handle and held it high above my head. Just when I didn't think a higher decibel of sound was possible, the Hall became even louder. Speechless, I just shouted along with them, yelling what ever came to mind which fit the occasion.  
  
Looking to my left, I saw the Slytherin table. Standing up, they merely gawked at the turn of events. Through the jumping and jostling crowd, I managed to spot Malfoy.  
  
Our eyes locked. He had probably forgotten everything. Even with the bandages, visible from across the room, he probably made up some elaborate story as to what happened, since he most likely had no memory of the event. Not expecting him to, I nonetheless smiled politely and gave him a reassuring nod of the head.  
  
Then something happened which blew me away.  
  
He nodded back.  
  
It was there and then gone, lasting only for a fraction of a second. I wasn't even sure if it had happened, and there was no way to double- check, since it was so slight, and I know nobody else would be paying that much attention to my nemesis, but I could have sworn I saw it.  
  
Would I ever again?  
  
As the gold and red banners unraveled themselves all over the Hall, it was clear that the party was just beginning. Not wishing to see anymore, the Slytherin table began to move towards the door, passing by us on the way out, probably to get a last chance to glare at the Gryffindor students.  
  
Malfoy approached me, his two thugs in tow. With his usual sneer, we came face to face, with just inches separating our expressions of distaste.  
  
"Think you're pretty special holding that trophy, Borrowton?"  
  
"Actually, Malfoy, you can refer to me as Potter," I replied with a smile. As much as I disliked him, I kept reminding myself of what I had just seen. Perhaps, a ray of hope in that dark heart possessed by a mister Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Very well, Potter. Enjoy your new girlfriend," he spat.  
  
"Oh, I will."  
  
As the three began to walk away, slithering back into the crowd, I called to him.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
He turned back to me. I stepped towards him, meeting him again up close.  
  
"You say one thing about her that displeases me, I will come after you," I stated without a quiver of hesitation.  
  
Trying to reply, Malfoy simply opened his mouth once and then shut it. Reverting to facial expressions, he sneered at me once more, turned again and slipped into the mob and out of the Hall.  
  
"So what are you going to do?" Harry asked me. The four of us were standing on the platform next to the Hogwarts' Express. After all the partying was over, we remained in the Great Hall, talking about all that we had been through. We decided to stay up all night, making the most of every moment we had. The school year was over, but we were trying to deny it for as long as we could. The train ride went by too quickly.  
  
"I don't know," I replied. I had little to no luggage with me, which was more than what I came in with. My uniform was packed in a truck Hagrid had bought me and I also packed some trinkets that I had collected over the year. Other than that, all I had was the street clothes on my back.  
  
"Go home?" Hermione asked me, a tad frightened. I gave her hand an extra squeeze to comfort her. Everyone awaited my response.  
  
"I don't know. I mean..what do I have to go home to? I don't have any real parents, I am actually a wizard.I.everything has changed."  
  
Silence reigned supreme as we stood there, trying to map out my future. I could hear the gears turning in all of our minds, along with the constant sound of chatter and footsteps that filled the air around us. However, Ron's was the first to spit out an answer.  
  
"Why don't you come home with us?"  
  
"You sure?" I asked, trying to feel out if he was being sincere.  
  
"Of course. We have room.I'm pretty sure.my mom will love you and you'll be able to see Hermione," he said, as pleasantly as possible. Although much hadn't been said about my relationship with her, I think Ron finally had come to grips with it. Although our friendship might have been quite fragile, it was still existent and resilient. Perhaps time would help to mend the remaining wounds.  
  
"Sounds good to me," I replied cheerily, seeing very few other options. Having little desire to go home, I was now looking forward to the summer. Seeing what I really was, Hogwarts' was now my home.  
  
"Looks like we've got out summers mapped out. Harry? You going back home, I'm guessing?" Ron asked.  
  
"Of course," he replied rolling his eyes, sighing with agonizing thoughts running through his mind. "Speaking of, I best be going."  
  
"Don't forget to write me, guys," Harry said, giving Ron and Hermione each a hug.  
  
"Especially you. Brothers have to keep it together," he laughed, recalling the year we had barely survived. After a handshake, we both gave up and resigned to sharing a hearty hug. Patting his back, I held back tears which began to collect in my eyes. Trying to hide them, I pulled away quickly.  
  
"Bye," we both said simultaneously. Nodding at all of us, he grabbed his luggage and continued on down the platform.  
  
"See you next year," I called after him.  
  
He waved in response and disappeared into the throngs of people known as King's Cross Station. Not wanting to show any weakness in front of Hermione and Ron, I decided to split for a while  
  
"I'm going to get a soda," I said.  
  
"Don't be too long. My dad should be here soon."  
  
Nodding, I walked off. Halfway towards the newsstand, something caught my eye. Some object on my shoulder was sparking as the light hit it. Touching it, my fingers became wet. I smiled, understanding.  
  
Even the strongest of us need to cry sometimes. 


End file.
